


Five Decks, Shuffled

by Not_Giving_A_Name



Category: South Park
Genre: Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiverse, Phone Destroyer Shade, Slow Burn, South Park: Phone Destroyer AU, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 49,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Giving_A_Name/pseuds/Not_Giving_A_Name
Summary: Toolshed, Human Kite, Mysterion, and the Coon break into Professor Chaos' lair, expecting to confront the supervillain. Instead, they find themselves separated in a strange land, surrounded by people who look familiar, but are actually strangers with their own histories and conflicts. To get back home, they'll have to work with these alternate-universe versions of selves, friends, family, and foes.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Eric Cartman/Heidi Turner, Eric Cartman/Kenny McCormick, Gregstophe? Bendy? Stabe? Stenny? We got it!, Kyle Broflovski & Eric Cartman & Kenny McCormick & Stan Marsh, Literally about a million mentioned in passing because it's the multiverse, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger, The Coon/Princess Kenny
Comments: 40
Kudos: 124





	1. Toolshed & Human Kite

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you spend too much time during quarantine playing South Park Phone Destroyer. You don't need to play SPPD to read, but certain things will make more sense if you do. ;) Tags will be updated as needed.
> 
> Also, everyone is aged-up except for Ike. Why? Because tiny Ike is cute.

**Toolshed**

Toolshed was sure he was either dreaming, drugged, or dead. One moment he had been breaking into Professor Chaos’s hideout with his allies. Well, his supposed allies. The Human Kite and Mysterion he trusted implicitly, but the Coon had only recently joined up with the Freedom Pals again, and no one fully trusted him. Regardless, they had needed him for the raid on Professor Chaos’s place, as he knew the layout best.

The four leapt through a window, but instead of finding himself in the lair of Professor Chaos, Toolshed found himself in pure chaos. He awoke outside, on soft green grass, surrounded by the sound of arguing.

Human Kite was the first face he saw, although why his longtime best friend was wearing such an extravagant outfit, red and gold robes and a crown, he didn’t know. In his surprise he accidentally called out the superhero’s real name.

“Kyle!”

His friend’s face darkened, and Stan assumed he was mad at the slip-up.

“Another human,” Kyle growled. “You dare address me?”

“We get it,” sighed a familiar sardonic voice. “You don’t like humans. It’s not like we’re Indians, for crying out loud.”

Toolshed looked at the Coon, or rather Cartman, since he was out of costume. At least, out of his superhero costume. Cartman was dressed like a sheriff from an old western.

“Why do you have our robot’s voice?” demanded another familiar voice, a voice that made Toolshed’s heart leap.

There was Wendy, the ex he still worked alongside, fighting for justice. To his surprise, she was holding a strange weapon, a gold and glowing-blue rife. It was pointed at Cartman, which was not as surprising.

“Robot? What are you playing at, Captain?” the western-garb-wearing Cartman asked. “Have you lost your mind at sea? Look, I am the law, and as sheriff, I think we should—”

“Quiet, mortal!” snapped a woman.

Toolshed recoiled. This woman looked like Bebe Stevens, but snakes writhed on her head. Had someone slipped him LSD?

“Yes, all should be silent when a god speaks,” a voice declared.

And this voice, strange in Toolshed’s ears, brought him to his strangest sight yet. Himself: gray-bearded, with a trident.

**Human Kite**

_Leave it to me_ , Human Kite, also known as Kyle Broflovski, thought, _to get stuck with the Catholics_.

Because in the vast open plain he’d woken up in, there were the two men he knew as Super Craig/Craig Tucker and Fastpass/Jimmy Valmer, both looking like they’d walked straight out of the Vatican. Craig wore the collar of a pastor, while Jimmy was dressed as a friar, with a little bird perched on his head.

At the moment, Craig was using a microphone to accuse a terrified, shirtless, painted white version of Tweek of being a demon while Jimmy tried to talk him down. A strangely outfitted Stan Marsh (who had even more strangely ignored Kyle earlier), stood beside Tweek, saying in a robotic voice that demons were not real. Perhaps strangest of all, the Coon’s, or rather, Eric Cartman’s, ex-girlfriend was dressed as a cowgirl, glaring at the group from the sidelines.

“Everyone, be quiet!” Kyle finally screamed.

Surprisingly with all the ruckus, it worked.

“We’ll accomplish nothing by fighting with each other,” Kyle continued. “This is clearly a disorienting experience for all of us.”

“What could have caused this?” Tweek’s familiar panicked voice asked. “Where’s Craig, my Craig? Oh, God! What if he’s—”

“I don’t know for sure what caused this,” Kyle said, “but my hunch, and I’m sure Heidi here will back me up, is that the culprit is Eric Cartman.”

Kyle hoped for a look of recognition and agreement from the familiar-yet-strange people, that yes, this was probably yet another problem caused by Eric Cartman. Instead, Jimmy and Craig regarded him with disgust, and Heidi aimed her gun at him.

“How dare you!” she cried. “How dare you accuse my husband!”

Kyle felt his stomach drop. “Your husband? Eric Cartman is your husband?”

“You were the best man at our wedding! Are you drunk? It would explain what you’re wearing.”

Kyle’s stomach launched right back up again, all the way into his throat. “I was Eric Cartman’s best man? At your marriage to him?”

“Now-now wait a minute,” said Jimmy. “That can’t be ri-right.”

“Yeah,” said Craig, “the Eric Cartman we know is a Buddhist monk. He’s celibate, like us. Regardless, he would never harm another living being. That you would accuse him of all people is suspicious.”

Now Kyle’s head wanted to explode.

“Buddhist?” he echoed. “The Eric Cartman who sounds like this? ‘Hey, I’m Eric Cartman and I’m fatass who hates everyone’?” he intoned in his best Cartman impression.

“That voice sounds like AWESOM-O’s!” exclaimed Tweek. “Did you kidnap our protection robot? Why are you doing this to us?”

“Eric Cartman is a s-sweet and gentle soul,” said Jimmy firmly to Kyle.

“The best,” Heidi added, still not lowering her gun. “A braver sheriff you’d find nowhere in the west. You should know, Kyle! How many times have you joined us to protect our town against people like them?” She gestured toward the strange Stan and Jimmy.

“Cyborgs?” Tweek cried. “You people fight cyborgs?”

“Franciscans?” asked Jimmy.

“No!” snapped Heidi. “Indians!”

“Stan and Jimmy aren’t Native American,” said Kyle.

Heidi rolled her eyes. “Of course they’re not. They’re part of the group of mostly white idiots who made their own tribe and run around pretending they are!”

“Oh,” said Kyle. “That’s…distasteful.”

“I apologize,” Jimmy said, abashed. “I don’t know who this other Jimmy is, but that’s f-f-fucked up.”

“Look,” said Craig, “I know what’s happened. For some time now I have been targeted by a type of demon, an imp. This—” he pointed to Tweek, who yelped, “is he, although he has altered his shape to appear human. No doubt this is his latest ruse to lead me to madness and Hell! We must pray.”

He began chanting in Latin, which the cyborg Stan dutifully translated. Tweek burst into tears.

Kyle sunk to the ground and put his head in his hands, wondering if he should just fly away.


	2. The Coon & Mysterion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now let's see who the Coon and Mysterion have ended up with!

**The Coon**

The Coon had never seen such a clusterfuck.

He had started the evening unsure if he were going to stay loyal to the Freedom Pals or join forces with Professor Chaos. He’d only recently made peace with his former allies, and already they were annoying him. Kenny had become so goddamn serious when he became Mysterion. Stan was Stan, and he was used to the man spouting off the inane motivational quotes he recited as Toolshed, but Kenny’s transformation from a sex-and-drugs-loving wildcard youth to a gravelly-voiced defender of justice annoyed him to no end.

Then of course, there was Kyle. Kyle fucking Broflovski, also known as the Human Kite, also known as the most useless superhero. That asshole did nothing but fly above everyone else, well out of danger, watching him absorb the majority of the team’s damage, and still had the nerve to act like he was more of hero than the Coon.

Cartman still hadn’t made up his mind to play turncoat or not when accompanying his fellow Freedom Pals on a raid of Chaos’s compound. He figured he’d see how the raid went. If the Freedom Pals were victorious, he’d be a hero for leading them through the supervillain’s hideout. If instead Chaos got the upper hand, he’d switch sides there and then to save himself, announcing he’d been luring the Freedom Pals to Chaos all along.

But then all this had happened.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, looking at the first of the three women, whom he had disastrously called Call Girl at first, “you’re an angel, and part of a mystical team of religious figures who fight for goodness?”

Also, the angel was comforting Ike, Kyle Broflovski’s brother. Except Ike Broflovski, as least as he, Eric Cartman, knew him, was a teenager. This Ike was kindergarten age, and dressed as a pirate. The angel seemed flummoxed by his presence, but Tiny Pirate Ike had called her “Captain” and leapt into her arms.

“That’s correct,” the angel who looked like Wendy said, balancing Ike on her hip.

“And you,” Cartman continued, turning to the absolutely terrifying clone of Bebe Stevens, who sported a metal arm and glowing red eyes. She also had a tiny Ike with her, this one apparently a hybrid with an adorable creature. “You’re a cyborg, and from a planet of scientific and post-apocalyptic horrors?”

“Affirmative.”

“And this…furry Ike came with you?”

“His name is Gizmo,” said Robo Bebe flatly.

“Hooray!” said Gizmo.

And then there was the third woman, who as far as Cartman could tell, was just Kenny, but Kenny in drag. Really good drag. And with violet contacts. He’d asked why Kenny was dressed like a girl earlier, which had caused her to burst into tears. Then the angel had torn him a new one. That sure was Wendy, at least.

“And you, Kenny, are a princess from the kingdom of Kubla Khan?”

“Kupa Keep,” a muffled but alluring voice corrected. “And you can’t fool me, Grand Wizard. I am sure that this is a test of my loyalty. Don’t think I am so easily tricked!”

Cartman had taken off his mask in the confusion earlier, when he had been sure the Wendy here was the Wendy he knew as Call Girl, and she had been insistent that she recognized his voice as Eric Cartman’s, which, of course, it was.

“Jesus,” he groaned, rubbing his face.

“Don’t talk about my friend in that tone of voice,” the angel snapped.

Cartman laughed bitterly. Of course Angel Wendy knew Jesus. He scanned the five familiar faces again, and gestured at the two Ikes.

“What even is this, with the age regression? How am I supposed to explain this to Kyle?”

“Kyle bad!” said Tiny Pirate Ike.

“He is not,” admonished the angel. “He’s your brother, and he loves you.”

“Ike isn’t Kyle’s brother,” said Princess Kenny, looking confused.

“Whoa. Rude, lady,” said Cartman.

“Cowboys suck!” Ike insisted. “I’m a pirate!”

“Another! Another!” Gizmo cheered.

Before the arguing could continue, a giant screen appeared in the brilliant blue sky, and a face they all knew appeared.

“Butters!” cried everyone besides Cartman, who yelled, “Chaos!” and shook his fist.

“Mwa-ha-ha!” laughed Professor Chaos. “Not only have I captured four of the dastardly Freedom Pals, but I have shown my dominance over the multiverse itself! Chaos will reign! If you dare to try to stop me, head to Destroyer Castle!”

With that, a map materialized at their feet, and the screen disappeared.

Ike broke the confused silence. “I have to go potty.” 

**Mysterion**

“Look, I believe, I truly believe that Leopold Stotch, also known as Butters, is a great guy where you come from,” Mysterion said. “But you have to believe me: Professor Chaos is not. He’s a supervillain.”

Like his allies, Mysterion was also in a lush green setting, surrounded by five strangers with familiar faces. They too had just received a message and a map from Chaos.

“Why should we believe you?” hissed Token, whose facepaint echoed the skull mounted on his staff. “First you accuse Eric Cartman, perhaps the most selfless being I have known, of pretending to be a ‘Nazi skinhead,’ and now you condemn Butters, a sweet soul who only wishes to sing and play bells?”

The Eric Cartman that Token had mentioned was seated nearby, eyes closed, face relaxed, head shorn. The calmness he exuded gave Mysterion the chills. Eric Cartman as a Buddhist monk? The man had to be scheming.

“I must say, I also have no-nothing but praise for Butters,” said Jimmy, who wore a feathered cap and carried a lute. “Where I come from, he is a noble Paladin, the ri-right-hand man of the Grand Wizard, who, as I must say, looks identical to th-this monk.”

“Same,” said Craig, who was carrying what looked like a Super Soaker. “Butters is in our band of nomads in Cyber Ghetto, the hellscape we call home. He’s a bit too cheery for my tastes, but a loyal ally. Mind control is common there. No doubt that is what he has fallen victim to.”

“Well, I say fuck Butters,” said a dissenting voice.

Kenny McCormick hadn’t expected to find support from one of his best friend’s combative older sister, or at least this cowgirl version of her, but he looked hopefully at Shelly.

“Where I’m from, Butters is a no-good pirate. His ship has teamed up with the Indians to raid our town for years. He’s a turd.”

“You see?” Mysterion said. “We’re all different in our different universes, and this Butters is bad!”

“Who are you, then, masked one?” asked Token.

“Yeah, you haven’t shown us your face,” said Craig. "And you're talking weird."

“I’m a superhero,” Mysterion said. “I have to keep my identity as secret.”

“Show us, or I’ll suck the life out of you,” threatened Token.

“Do it, turd!” snapped Shelly. “I’d say the circumstances call for it.”

Kenny sighed, and pulled off his mask and cowl.

Everyone gasped.

“Hermes?” asked Token.

“Kenny-Tron,” stated Craig.

“You Inuit turd!” yelled Shelly.

“The princess!” exclaimed Jimmy.

“No, I’m not—wait, what did you say?” Mysterion said, looking at Jimmy.

“In Kupa Keep, where I hail f-from, Princess Kenny is the brightest jewel in the kingdom’s cr-cr-crown, the loveliest ro-rose in its garden. I can sing ballads of her fame.”

“In your world…I’m a woman?” Kenny asked, feeling a blush spread over his cheeks.

“Yes, the fairest in all the land,” Jimmy said.

“Beauty is in the eye of beholder,” said Eric, still sitting with his eyes closed, “but the truest beauty is the beauty of the soul. Kenny McCormick, you have a beautiful soul, no matter the form your body takes.”

“Uh…thanks,” Kenny said, still unnerved by the bald, robe-wearing version of his oldest friend and sometimes-enemy.

“It’s great that this female Kenny-Tron doppelganger is hot and all, but I have someone to get back to,” said Craig, “so I’m going to start walking.”


	3. The Coon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group consisting of the Coon, Angel Wendy, Princess Kenny, Robo Bebe, Smuggler Ike, and Gizmo Ike get to know each other better and face their first battle.

**The Coon ( & Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Smuggler Ike & Gizmo Ike)  
**

After a bathroom break for the two Ikes and some discussion, during which the Coon had nearly been murdered for griping that he had gotten stuck looking after the women and children, the group containing the Coon, Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Pirate Ike, and Gizmo Ike traveled along a dirt path they’d found that seemed to be on the map. As they walked, they tried to make sense of the doppelgangers and their alternate realities.

“If I’m the Wizard King and you're the princess,” said Cartman, “does that make you my daughter?”

Princess Kenny burst out laughing. “I know you’re testing me, Grand Wizard.”

“What then? My sister? My…wife?”

“Your wife?” she exclaimed, giggling. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Cartman raised his hands to show he was backing off. “Look, I’ve known you, or the other you, rather, since we were babies. The four of us were raised together. So I can’t really be objective here.”

“I understand,” said Princess Kenny, although she looked disappointed, which was truly heartrending. “Who are the other two when you say ‘the four of us’?”

“Stan and Kyle.”

That stopped Princess Kenny in her tracks. “Kyle?”

“Yeah, I know, he’s a total dick, but we tolerate him anyway.”

“In your world, is he…human?”

“Of course. Jewish, but yes, human. In your world, he’s not?”

Princess Kenny shook her head, her blonde waves shimmering. “Kyle is the leader of the Drow Elves.”

Cartman laughed. “He’s an elf? With pointy ears?”

“It’s not funny,” Princess Kenny said, her face somber. “The elves are our enemies. They wish to kill all humans.”

“Kyle’s the genocidal one?” Cartman said, laughing even louder. “That is too perfect!”

Princess Kenny glared at him, and he put up his hands again.

“Sorry, Princess. It’s just that in my world, that is really funny for…reasons.”

“If his kingdom forms an alliance with the Blood Elves, which Elf King Bradley is trying to arrange, we might be done for. Their deadliest warrior looks like her,” Princess Kenny said, nodding towards Robo Bebe, who was leading the group.

“Bebe Stevens, a deadly elf,” mused Cartman. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hey!” snapped Angel Wendy.

Cartman scowled. “And then there’s Wendy Testaburger: a joyless scold across the multiverse. Is she like that in your world?”

Princess Kenny smirked. “She’s a shieldmaiden. Very serious. But you knew that already, Grand Wizard.”

Ike, who had been walking alongside Angel Wendy, clutching her white robe, scowled and pointed at Cartman. “Bad sheriff!”

“Sheriff? I’m a sheriff where you're from? That’s cool. I hope people respect my authority.”

“Bad!” Ike repeated. “Kyle bad too!”

“No, Kyle good!” argued Gizmo, who trotted behind Robo Bebe.

“Sorry, Giz, Ike has it right,” Cartman said. “That’s me and Kyle: a couple of bad boys, wearing all leather, riding our hogs around the streets of South Park, driving the ladies wild.”

“What do the sheriff and Kyle do that’s bad?” Angel Wendy asked gently.

“Shoot our ship!”

“That isn’t nice,” Angel Wendy agreed.

“They’re _pirates_ , Angel,” said Cartman.

“Hungry!” Gizmo announced.

“Me too!” Ike said.

“I don’t know if angels and cyborgs eat,” said Cartman, “but the rest of us are going to have to find food at some point.”

He did actually have a candy bar in his utility belt, but decided to keep that knowledge to himself. After all, it was on him to protect the group, and he would need his strength.

“I agree,” said Princess Kenny. “It’s odd that we haven’t seen any chickens.”

“What’s odd about that?” asked Angel Wendy. “It’s not like there are any farms around.”

“In my world, chickens are everywhere. You can hardly take ten steps without running into a flock of chickens.”

“Yeah? Do they come pre-fried?” asked Cartman. “That would be kickass.”

“Your mother, the sorceress Liane, actually does a lot of magic with them,” said Princess Kenny. “Many people practice cock magic in Kupa Keep.”

Cartman choked on his own air. “Excuse me?”

“Warning,” Robo Bebe announced, “enemies ahead.”

The group stopped and looked up. In the distance they could see that the road led to a bridge crossing a river. Flanking the bridge were two stone towers. Angel Wendy consulted the map, which indicated that was the path they would have to take to reach Destroyer Castle.

“Maybe they’ll let us pass,” said Princess Kenny.

“Unlikely,” replied Robo Bebe, “there are two guards with arrows, ready to fire.”

“Fight, fight, fight!” cried Gizmo.

“Battle!” exclaimed Ike.

“This should be easy,” said Cartman, “Angel here can just fly up and take them out.”

“I can’t fly.”

Cartman turned toward the angel, bemused. “You can’t fly? You have wings.”

“I know that, dummy,” Angel Wendy retorted, her face turning red, “but I can’t fly!”

“You’re an angel and you can’t fly? Why do you have wings then?”

“That’s just how it is!”

Cartman rubbed his face. What kind of world was it when Kyle fucking Broflovski could fly, but a literal angel couldn’t?

“I’m hard to kill,” he told the others, “and usually in a set-up like this, I’d take the front, but with Human Kite providing cover from above.”

“Don’t worry,” said Angel Wendy, “I can heal you.”

“Encouraging,” said Cartman dryly. “Princess, you got any fighting skills?”

Princess Kenny smiled coyly. “You’ll see.” 

When they got closer to the tower, warning arrows were shot.

“Stay back!” shouted one of the archers.

“Any who try to pass will be annihilated!” yelled the other.

They were going to have to take the bridge by force.

“Okay, Ikes,” Cartman said, “you stay directly behind me, you understand? Right here, holding my tail.”

“Nooo!” cried Ike. “I hate you!”

“Gizmo is a formidable fighter,” said Robo Bebe. “He will be able to help if we need to fight from inside the towers.”

“He’s a fucking child, you psycho,” snapped Cartman.

“Our Ike participates in battles occasionally, too,” said Angel Wendy, “but he wouldn’t do well in an aerial assault like this.”

“We also have an Ike similar to these,” said Princess Kenny, “and he’s an adequate knight despite his small stature and young age.”

“So you’re all Abrahams with giant boners for sacrificing Isaac?” Cartman said, genuinely shocked that he was the one holding the line against child soldiers. “Ike and Gizmo, both of you, hold onto my tail. It’s a game.”

“Game!” said Gizmo gleefully, clutching the costume’s striped tail.

“Don’t wanna!” wailed Ike.

“Just for now,” Angel Wendy reasoned. “Like Eric said, it’s a game.”

Still moping, Ike relented.

Cartman stared down the towers. _I can do this_ , he thought. _Sure, it would be nice if Kyle were here to give me a brief window of protection from the arrows, but you know what? Fuck Kyle and his know-it-all face and his stupid kite costume. And sure, I’ve only got a trio of chicks and two actual children for backup, but that’s okay. I never needed any sidekicks._

The guards started firing the moment the group charged forward. Cartman grunted as the first arrow met its target: him. He was tall and broad enough that those behind him would be protected for a while, but he couldn’t hold out indefinitely.

“How long until we’re in range, ladies?”

“Patience is a virtue,” said Angel Wendy.

“Don’t worry, Bebe will terminate them,” Robo Bebe promised.

“Well, just take your sweet time then,” he hissed as another arrow struck. They didn’t do to him the same amount of damage they’d do to someone else, but they still stung.

“Go, go, go!” cheered Gizmo.

More arrows rained down, but Cartman forged ahead. _Ow, ow, ow, I am not going to cry_ , he told himself, which was what he told himself every battle.

“This would be a good time to use your magic, Grand Wizard,” whispered Princess Kenny.

“I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong Eric Cartman,” he said. “Believe me, if I could do anything other than act as a walking dartboard right now, I would.”

When they were half way to the bridge, a flash of gold, purple, and white entered his peripheral vision. The distressingly pretty and be-titted version of his oldest friend and sometimes-enemy was prancing into view of the archers. Cartman could have sworn he heard playful, upbeat music in the air. Was it coming from her scepter?

“Princess Kenny, what the fuck are you doing? Stay behind me,” he ordered.

“Don’t worry!” Princess Kenny said cheerfully.

Before he could belabor the point, Cartman’s leg buckled as an arrow struck his knee. _I took an arrow to the knee? You’ve got to be kidding me._ At the same instant, an arrow hit Princess Kenny, and she dramatically collapsed to the ground.

“Oh no!” shouted Ike. 

“Pwincess Kenny!” cried Gizmo. “Bastard!”

“No, you little douchebags!” yelled Cartman as the two Ikes abandoned the safe zone behind him to run to the fallen princess’s side. He lurched over to them, pulling them to his chest with one arm.

“Eric!” he heard the angel scream.

He looked up to see an arrow flying right at his face. _No_ , he thought, _this can’t be how it_ —

The arrow bounced harmlessly off his cheek.

Giggles rang out from beside him. Princess Kenny sat up, totally fine. “The arrows of the archer on the right are useless for now,” she announced gleefully. “Go get the one on the left!”

Robo Bebe charged forward, firing her weapon into the left turret.

“Here’s a healing shot for you, St. Sebastian!” Angel Wendy said.

Cartman felt something stab his back, and gasped as the arrows he’d acquired popped out of his skin, the flesh mending behind them. “Jesus!”

“I’ll let that one slide,” said the angel smugly before aiming her bow at the turrets.

Within moments, both guards were dead. Robo Bebe’s eyes glowed red with satisfaction, and the Ikes jumped around in excitement.

“So,” said Cartman, still on the ground, turning back to the princess, “you’re defeated at the drop of a hat, but you’ve got a cool party trick after. Sounds about right for Kenny.”

Princess Kenny grinned and hopped to her feet, offering him a hand up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's true. Angel Wendy does not fly in South Park Phone Destroyer. She's a strictly pedestrian angel.


	4. Human Kite & Mysterion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Human Kite's group (Calamity Heidi, Youth Pastor Craig, War Boy Tweek, Program Stan, Friar Jimmy) deals with a combative member, while Mysterion struggles to fit in with the familiar strangers he's ended up with (Marine Craig, Sharpshooter Shelly, Witch Doctor Token, Le Bard Jimmy, Zen Cartman). 
> 
> Also, if you don't play Phone Destroyer, you can still see all these character designs here: https://southparkphonedestroyer.fandom.com

**Human Kite ( & Calamity Heidi, Youth Pastor Craig, Friar Jimmy, War Boy Tweek & Program Stan)  
**

“We hate that guy, too!”

“He’s the worst varmint in the west.”

“As a man of God, I’m not supposed to say this, but yes, he to-to-totally sucks.”

Kyle’s group was continuing down their own path with their own map, and as they walked, they began comparing their lists of friends, enemies, and acquaintances. They were at least in agreement on one thing: Dougie O’Connell sucked, no matter where he was or what name he took.

“I can see Dougie’s smug little face now,” said Calamity Heidi, “peeking out of that darn barrel of his.”

“Whenever I see Powerfist coming at us, I’m so scared that I almost scream,” admitted War Boy Tweek.

“Correction: you do scream,” reported Program Stan, "at a rate of 100%.”

Hearing his best friend’s voice sound so robotic and flat gave Kyle shivers. He was trying not to stare, but it was difficult—Stan was encased in a glowing blue suit. Because only his face showed, it was difficult to tell how much of him remained human. What had been done to him, and by whom? Kyle had asked Tweek, but Tweek had shrugged and said they had found him like that. Kyle wondered if he could bring the cyborg back home with them. Although he was loathe to trust the man, perhaps Doctor Mephesto could free him of his programing. 

“Dougie is General Disarray in our world,” Kyle said, tearing his eyes away from the altered version of his friend. “He’s the sidekick of Professor Chaos, the man on the screen we saw. So he’s likely partially responsible for this mess.”

“Oh, so now you admit that it’s not my husband’s doing?” asked Heidi sourly.

“I’m not ruling it out. The Coon has teamed up with Chaos before.”

Heidi sighed. “The real Kyle would be so disappointed in you.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. 

Pastor Craig had not participated in the conversation so far, instead stalking alongside the group and occasionally shooting glares at Tweek that made the war boy tremble, but he finally broke his silence as the subject of blame returned. “I’m telling you all, this imp is at fault.”

“Tweek is a good guy in our world,” Heidi said. “Nervous as all get-out, though. In fact, you’re the bad one. Maybe we should be suspicious of you.”

“They’re both good where I come from,” Kyle said, hoping to keep the peace. He didn’t think he should reveal the two superheroes’ relationship. There were already too many conflicts brewing, and he didn’t want to throw grease on the fire. “They’re both members of the Freedom Pals, and brave heroes.”

“We are?” Tweek asked, smiling shyly at Kyle. “That makes me happy. Craig’s the best.” The blond’s eyes filled with tears again. “He’s my protector…and my lover. I’m lost without him!”

“Your lover?” Pastor Craig pounced, eyes flashing with rage. “How dare you imply that! No version of me would resort to sodomy, I am sure of it!”

“Father Craig, please,” murmured Friar Jimmy.

“No, I will not be pacified,” shouted Craig. “Not when I’m being harassed by this fiend from Hell, this vile sinner!”

Tweek was sobbing again, much of his white face paint washed away already.

“Ignore his tears,” Craig told the others, “they are a ploy, and this creature deserves no pity.”

To hell with the grease, Kyle decided. “I’ll have you know, Pastor Craig, that in my world, the two of you are married!”

The color drained from Craig’s face, while Tweek’s lit up.

“You lie!” Craig spat. “You’re just an illusion conjured by this Hell-sent imp!”

“For He-He-Heaven’s sake,” scolded Jimmy, “Jesus Himself has told us he doesn’t care about what consenting adults do for sex. Come on.”

Craig flipped his colleague the bird and turned away.

“Regardless of what you believe, you need to stop being a dick to this Tweek,” Kyle said. “He’s done nothing wrong in our time here.”

“Yeah! If you don’t knock it off, you’re gonna get it, and I’m gonna give it to you,” Heidi added.

Tweek flashed them a smile of thanks and wiped his eyes.

Program Stan had stopped up ahead. “We are exactly a quarter mile from a fort,” he reported. “Guards armed with candles are standing by.”

That didn’t sound right. “Candles?” asked Kyle skeptically.

“Updating scan,” said Program Stan, staring into the distance. “There are also soldiers armed with something called the Book of Mormon.”

**Mysterion ( & Le Bard Jimmy, Marine Craig, Sharpshooter Shelly, Witch Doctor Token & Zen Cartman)  
**

Mysterion was silent as his group left the scene of their first battle together. They’d had to fight off a horde of white people pretending to be Native Americans, as if they had stumbled into some sort of music-less Coachella. Although they had been easily victorious, the battle was harrowing. First of all, this version of Token, apparently a witch doctor, was legitimately terrifying as he prowled through the chaos, stealing enemy life forces like a spirit vampire. Then there was the moment when the bard Jimmy played a special note on his lute that made a large swarm of attackers fall dead instantly.

And there was this bizarre version of Eric Cartman. Like the Coon, the monk served as a human shield, which was useful as they approached the enemy forces. Unlike the Coon, he didn’t fight back. At all. So once they reached the enemy, he just…stood there. Sometimes he would chant, bringing attackers away from his allies and to him instead, which was nice and selfless and all that, but even then, he just stood there. _You have arms, throw a punch or something!_ Kenny had thought. _They are literally standing one inch away from you_.

“I can’t do that. It goes against my principles of nonviolence,” a worse-for-wear Eric had said when Kenny asked about it after the battle.

“But by covering us so we can attack the other side, you’re assisting in violence anyway,” Kenny had argued. “If you’re going to help us, you might as well get involved when the fighting starts. The Coon is lazy as hell, and even he throws some hands once the enemy is within range. It just seems like a move with limited logic and usefulness. I mean, if you’re going to have a human shield, why not have one that fights?”

Eric had smiled placidly. “We are on different paths, Kenny McCormick, and both are valid.”

Now the team was comparing notes on who they were in different worlds, and who else they knew.

“What about Cl-Cl-Clyde?” asked Jimmy. “He’s the king of the dwarves.” 

“Pirate. Hate him,” Shelly replied.

“Alien. Know him,” said Craig.

“I have no idea who that is,” said Token.

“Sort of handsome? Cocky? Stupid?” prompted Shelly.

“Oh. I think you mean Hercules.”

“He’s Mosquito in our world,” said Mysterion.

“He’s a mosquito?” asked Craig skeptically.

“No, a superhero called Mosquito. He’s mosquito-themed.”

“Wow,” said Craig. “That’s really dumb.”

Kenny had always secretly thought that, but it stung to hear one of his teammates insulted by someone else.

“What about Red?” asked Jimmy.

To Kenny’s bewilderment, the entire group burst into adulation.

“She only recently appeared in our world,” said Token, jubilation sneaking into his usually menacing voice, “and yes, she’s a dark angel and technically our enemy, but…wow! Except for some killjoys, we’re all crushing hard.”

“Oh, you’re in for a tr-tr-treat!” said Jimmy. “In Kupa Keep, her dragon-slaying feats are legendary.”

“She’s a pirate, and therefore also my sworn enemy,” said Shelly, nodding sympathetically at Token, “but I have to admit, she is so cool. I mean, her fashion sense? Killer.”

“She’s an exiled alien queen where I’m from, and we’re lucky enough that she’s on our side,” said Craig, showing more emotion than he had all day, including during the battle. “If I could poison people half as well as Red, I’d be so happy.”

“Red the red-haired girl?” Kenny asked, wondering if they could possibly mean the same Red.

“Do you know her?” Jimmy asked.

“Yeah, I went to school with her. She’s not a superhero, though. She’s just kinda…in the background. She’s not a major player or anything. No special talents.”

Token, Shelly, Craig, and Jimmy looked at Kenny like they were Member Berries and he had just criticized Star Wars.

“Maybe you’re just sexist,” said Shelly, earning nods from the others.

Jimmy began singing a ballad, “The Tale of Dragonslayer Red and the Dragon-Sized Chickens.” Soon the others had learned the chorus and were singing along.

Kenny dropped back, walking alone. _I thought I was a good leader_ , he thought, _but I can’t do anything right in this team_. _I wasn’t even that helpful in our battle compared to Token, Shelly, and Jimmy. If we do manage to get home, it won’t be thanks to me._

He was interrupted from his downward spiral by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see the monk smiling beneficently at him.

“I want you to know that I like you just the way you are.”

Kenny sighed. He’d have to take acceptance where he could get it, and really, where better than from a bald weirdo version of his oldest friend? “Thanks, Cartman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Stan stans, we'll get to him next!


	5. Toolshed & the Coon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's humans vs non-humans in Toolshed's group. Meanwhile, Princess Kenny learns about the McCormicks.

**Toolshed ( & Poseidon Stan, Medusa Bebe, Kyle of the Drow Elves, Ice Sniper Wendy & Sheriff Cartman)**

A sort-of alliance between the three humans had formed in Toolshed’s group. Perhaps “alliance” was too strong of a word. What had happened was that Poseidon (who looked like Stan), Medusa (who looked like Bebe), and the elfin Kyle were all busy arguing with each other and refusing to acknowledge the humans, so the humans had no choice but to step back and watch.

“I am a god!” declared Poseidon, “and I should lead us.”

“And I kill gods, as you well know!” Medusa countered, her hair-snakes hissing. “Remember, my side now has the Dark Angel. When we get back home—”

The sea god interrupted her threat. “But we’re not home, and the Dark Angel isn’t here, is she?”

“The important thing is that we all hate the humans,” Kyle insisted.

Toolshed, meanwhile, sat back and stared at his god-self. It was unnerving to see his own face with white hair and a beard, let alone the crown and trident. He looked like Ariel’s father in _The Little Mermaid_.

Sheriff Cartman, meanwhile, was clearly impatient with the lack of action, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself. “That’s it,” he finally said, throwing up his hands. “Imma head out.” He started walking away.

“By yourself?” called Wendy.

Stan forced himself to look at her again. She looked so much like the Wendy back home. Maybe a little more battle-hardened and weathered. Her eyes were colder. A pair of googles were perched on her head, and she kept her weapon, which looked like a steampunk rifle, at the ready.

“I have a wife waiting for me,” said the sheriff, “and a town to protect. So screw those guys, I’m going home.”

Stan couldn’t help his curiosity. “A wife? _You_ have a wife?”

Cartman smirked. “The most beautiful woman in the west.” He ambled back to Stan and pulled out a gold pocket watch. He opened the cover to reveal a sepia photo of a woman who was undoubtedly Heidi Turner, wearing a big, stupid cowgirl hat with a flower on it.

“Oh, God,” Stan groaned.

Cartman grabbed his white t-shirt collar and yanked him up to eye level. “Are you insulting my wife?”

“No, no,” Stan said, “it’s just that…I know you both in my world.” For his own preservation, he decided to leave out the recurring and unmitigated disaster the Cartman/Heidi relationship had been back in his reality. “I know all of you. It’s weird, right?”

Cartman set him down.

“I know everyone too,” said Wendy.

“Yeah?” Stan asked. He and Wendy had broken up long ago in his world, but if Cartman and Heidi had made it work in another plane of existance, maybe he and Wendy—

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” Wendy continued, looking at Stan, “what with the hair and emotions. It’s jarring.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Look, where I’m from, no one lasts long if they’re on their own.”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Stan asked. “About the hair and emotions?”

“You’re a cyborg where I’m from,” Wendy said. “And you,” she added, looking at Cartman, “are a robot.”

“I don’t care if I’m a dildo where you’re from,” growled Cartman, “I just want to get back to my wife!”

“And what is your plan for that?” Wendy asked. “We have no idea where we are!”

That was when a giant screen appeared in the sky, and Professor Chaos delivered his message. As with the other groups, a map materialized in front of them. Or rather, in front of Wendy. She snatched it up in an instant.

“Hey!” Cartman protested.

“It’s going to be us versus them, idiot,” Wendy whispered to him and Stan, nodding at the non-humans.

Indeed, the other three had paused their squabbling and were glaring at Wendy.

“Give us the map, mortal!” ordered Poseidon.

“Why should I?” asked Wendy, aiming her weapon at them as Toolshed stepped between her and the others, wielding his drill.

“Because we’re your betters!” snapped Kyle.

Cartman glanced from the god/elf/monster contingent to Wendy, then joined Stan in protecting her. “Better at what, exactly? Because I know the human version of you, and he has better ears and better fashion sense.”

The elf turned scarlet, matching his robes. Combined with his hair, it was not a flattering color.

“Why don’t we all work together?” Stan suggested. “Six is stronger than three no matter how you cut it. And we all have the same goal: getting home.”

“Enough with your insolence!” yelled Poseidon. “I control the seas!”

With that, Stan’s gray-haired self charged at his superhero self, trident raised.

 _Oh, God_ , Stan thought, even as he moved forward to meet the attack, _I’m just a human, even if I am superpowered. I can’t take on a god._

Trident struck against drill with a dramatic clang.

Poseidon fell to the ground.

Kyle and Medusa stared wide-eyed at the humans.

“We’ll be keeping the map,” said Wendy.

**The Coon ( & Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Smuggler Ike & Gizmo Ike)**

After ransacking the towers for supplies and scoring some arrows and bread, Cartman’s group continued on their way. Ike and Gizmo had a surge of energy after the excitement of a battle and snacks, but soon lost steam and ended up perched on Cartman’s broad shoulders as their journey continued.

“I don’t think this map is to scale,” Wendy mused, looking between the map and the road in front of them. “We’re nowhere near the next landmark, and the sun is setting.”

“So it could take us days to reach Destroyer Castle,” said Cartman. “Great.”

“Surely the company of three beautiful women isn’t so terrible, Grand Wizard,” said Princess Kenny.

“You still think I’m this Grand Wizard, huh?”

“I have my doubts, now,” Princess Kenny admitted. “He’s stronger than you.”

“Hey!” snapped Cartman. “Did I not just take a shitload of arrows for you?”

“Shitload!” parroted Ike and Gizmo.

“And I’m grateful,” Princess Kenny said with a smile. “I’m also not sure why the Grand Wizard would be dressed like that. What animal are you meant to be?”

“A raccoon, obviously!” Cartman said, turning to show off the costume’s tail.

“What’s a raccoon?” asked Princess Kenny.

“Come on, you must know what a raccoon is,” Cartman said.

“I don’t know either,” said Robo Bebe.

“They’re cunning animals from the Americas,” Cartman supplied. “Nocturnal. Mischievous. Stealthy. What kinds of animals grace my kingdom, Princess?”

“Chickens, like I said before. Rats. Dragons. The usual.”

“Dragons? Real dragons? Kick ass.”

“They’re terrifying,” Princess Kenny said. “Thank goodness we have Red.”

“There’s a Red in your world, too?” Wendy asked. “What’s she like?”

The angel listened intently while Princess Kenny, Robo Bebe, and Cartman all shared their impressions of the redhead (dragonslayer/alien queen/barkeep’s daughter) while Ike and Gizmo simply cheered, “Yay, Red!”

“What’s she in yours?” Princess Kenny asked Wendy.

The angel shook her head. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to get into it.”

They ended up stopping for the night in a wooded area. Wendy shot down some pigeons to roast and they dined around the campfire.

“I miss Kyle,” Gizmo, who was half asleep, whined partway through dinner.

“You’ll see him when we get back to Cyber Ghetto,” Robo Bebe told him, lifting the furry, big-earred little creature onto her lap. She turned to the others. “His brother is a bounty hunter and is away a lot. Gizmo always gets fussy when they’re separated. Kyle found him in a laboratory where he was searching for a target. He rescued him right there and unofficially adopted him as his little brother.”

Ike let the mention of Kyle pass without scowling, because he was fast asleep, leaning against Wendy.

“I’m biased against Kyles, but that’s very sweet,” said Princess Kenny. “I wish I had siblings.”

“Karen and Kevin aren’t in your world?” Cartman asked, stripping the meager meat from a pigeon drumstick.

Princess Kenny looked up in amazement. “Who?”

“The Kenny I know has two siblings,” said Cartman. “Kevin’s kind of a dud, but Karen’s cool. She’s in college now.”

The princess looked stunned. “I don’t actually know anything about my family. But I—or rather, the other Kenny—have siblings?”

Cartman nodded. “Kevin’s a few years older than us, and Karen’s a few years younger. Kenny and Karen are super close.”

"A little sister! 'Karen,'" mused Princess Kenny, pronouncing the name carefully. "What an exotic name. And my—I mean his—parents?”

Cartman looked in her wide, hopeful eyes, and felt his heart drop. Usually he’d feel no remorse bashing the McCormicks, even in front of Kenny, but he hesitated at telling the truth to this young woman.

Robo Bebe spared him the trouble. “Stuart McCormick is an alcoholic.”

Princess Kenny’s eyes darted from Robo Bebe to Cartman, anxious.

“Um, that’s true in our world as well. Stuart and Carol both have various addictions,” Cartman admitted. “It’s probably best that you don’t know them. I'm sure they love their kids, they just…weren’t always able to take care of them.”

“Oh,” said Princess Kenny, her slim shoulders sagging. She looked back to Robo Bebe. “And the rest of the family, in your world?”

“I only know Stuart and Kenny-Tron. The rest of the McCormicks were killed in war. Stuart and Kenny were captured and turned into cyborgs, like lots of people. They don’t talk about their dead family.” She shrugged. “Kenny-Tron focuses on keeping our group alive, and Stuart drinks.”

They all looked at the princess, who stared at the ground. The silence grew tense and awkward. Cartman racked his brain searching for something else comforting to say about the McCormicks, but could find nothing. At one point in high school, Kenny had taken Karen and shown up at the Cartman residence late at night. The McCormicks had let them stay for a week, but demanded them home after that. At a clandestine meeting between Liane, Sharon, Randy, Sheila, and Gerald, the group decided the Broflovskis had the best chance at winning any sort of legal guardianship. That battle not only failed, but had obliterated anything that remained of Gerald and Stuart's strained childhood friendship. Kenny ended up back at the Cartmans' house after being kicked out upon turning eighteen, and finished his senior year there while checking in on Karen as much as possible.

“Excuse me,” Princess Kenny said softly, before hurrying off into the dark forest.

“Shit,” muttered Cartman, standing up, mentally cursing Stuart and Carol.

“Maybe she needs a moment,” Angel Wendy said gently.

“We don’t know what’s out there,” Cartman argued, heading after the princess.

Cartman made his way through the dark forest, weaving between the trees. Soon he heard the sound of muffled crying. Then he could see a flash of the princess’s gold crown and the white of her dress. She was sitting under an oak tree, weeping.

Princess Kenny wiped her eyes with her gloved hands as he approached. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Cartman said, settling down in front of her. “That was an intense info dump.”

“It’s just that I’ve always wanted to know about my family. I’ve imagined them so many times, imagined the moment I learn who they are so many times.”

“Maybe it’ll be a happier story in your world when you do find out. I mean, if my friend Kyle can be genocidal elf in some fantasy land, I’m sure Stuart and Carol can get their shit together in at least one reality.”

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded faintly.

“And, hey,” Cartman added, “my family’s kind of messed up too.”

“I only know of your mother.”

Cartman leaned back on his hands. “Well, my father, at least in my world, had zero involvement. He was married to another woman. I have a half-brother, technically. We don’t talk. All I got from my father were his NFL genes.”

“His what?”

“Oh, right. You see, in my country, there’s this game where really strong men give each other brain damage to entertain the masses in exchange for large sums of money.”

“That sounds barbaric.”

“It totally is, should probably be illegal. But anyway, my father was one of those athletes. That’s why I’m built like a tank.”

Cartman’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see that the princess’s violet eyes were dryer now. She wiped the remainders away with her gloves. It caught him off-guard how protective he felt of this version of Kenny. Sure, he had spent his childhood chasing rats and vultures and sometimes fire away from Kenny with a stick, but this Kenny he wanted to place high up on a pedestal, away from any dangers or cruel realities.

“I wish I had a handkerchief to give you,” he said impulsively.

Princess Kenny smiled. “It’s fine. I can magic my gloves clean anyway. Thank you…” She paused for a moment, then looked into his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Eric.”

He smiled back, then got up, offering her his hand.

“We should probably head back,” he said, helping her up. “For all we know there are dragons out here, and we don’t have your dragonslayer Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TFW you're new at playing Phone Destroyer and get a Poseidon card and think it's going to be awesome because it's Stan. :|


	6. Toolshed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toolshed learns more about Ice Sniper Wendy's hellish sci-fi world, and the divided group is forced to work together.

**Toolshed ( & Poseidon Stan, Medusa Bebe, Kyle of the Drow Elves, Ice Sniper Wendy & Sheriff Cartman)**

In Toolshed’s group, the human/non-human divide remained as the six entered a forest, which provided welcome shade. Wendy held onto the map, flanked by Stan and Cartman, while Medusa, Poseidon, and Kyle walked a few yards behind, glaring. Medusa’s expression could have turned someone to stone, metaphorically.

Cartman glanced over his shoulder. “The fairytale trio are looking mighty pissed off. That was some fancy drill work you pulled off, Mr. Marsh, but all the same I wish the real Kyle or your sister were here as backup.”

“Shelly?” Stan said, surprised.

“Miss Shelly Marsh, the one and only. She could shoot a twig from a sparrow’s beak a mile away.”

Stan couldn’t decide if the image of a sharpshooter Shelly was terrifying or kickass. Maybe both. “She used to babysit you, you know.”

Cartman guffawed. “That I’d love to see. Ol’ Shell’s the only member of your family who isn’t a complete asshole.”

“What makes us assholes?” Stan asked.

If Stan later had to rank the most mortifying moments of his life, he would definitely rank near the top of the list the time an alternate-reality version of Cartman explained in detail that in his world, 1) Stan was part of a group of mostly white people who pretended to be Native Americans, 2) his parents were also involved in this pursuit, and 3) his father did this in drag. He absolutely could not fault Westworld Shelly for saying “fuck that” and joining the cowboys in the fight against their family.

“I promise my own family’s not nearly that embarrassing—” he started to argue, before remembering everything his geologist-turned-pot-baron father had ever done, “—or at least not quite that embarrassing.” He looked at Wendy, hoping she believed him.

Unfortunately, Wendy just rolled her eyes. “I know Randy Marsh. He’s part of our nomadic group, and he’s an embarrassing wreck in our world, too, down to the bad drag. Gets drunk with Stuart McCormick a lot. Has an old red wig he found in the garbage that he wears when he’s feeling down.”

“Great,” said Stan, applying palm to face. How could his father manage to embarrass him from across space and time?

“I guess I shouldn’t be too harsh on Stuart and Randy, though,” Wendy continued. “There’s hardly a set way to cope when most of your family’s been slaughtered and you and/or your surviving son have been turned into a cyborg.”

Stan stopped in his tracks. “Wait, what? What happened to my family?”

“Randy doesn’t like to talk about it, but he told me once that you, your mother, and your sister were kidnapped by a corporation. It’s not uncommon in our world. So Randy joined a resistance group that was planning a raid on the company’s laboratory. It was dangerous and took months to plan. When they finally broke in, you were the only one he found alive. Well, sort of. You’d been transformed into a cyborg, with little of your human mind left. He said you barely recognized him. Most of the resistance was killed, but Randy managed to escape with you. Eventually, the two of you joined up with our group. You’ve been running with us ever since.”

Stan couldn’t make himself continue to walk. Even though he was sure his own family was safe and sound back home, he felt a spike of panic at imagining a world where his mom and Shelly had likely been killed, where he was an emotionless cyborg and the last family member his dad had. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. The forest they had entered suddenly seemed dark and foreboding.

“Jesus,” muttered Cartman as Stan quickly wiped his face. “Way to be a downer, Miss Testaburger.”

“That’s just reality,” said Wendy, defensive and grim. “Everyone in our group has a similar sob story. We’re all survivors of civil unrest, tyrannical governments, war lords, unethical experiments, intergalactic battles. A lot of people would say Program Stan and Kenny-Tron are the lucky ones, since they each still have a family member, messed up as they are. Hell, I don’t have that. We’re just a collection of damaged escapees and outcasts, trying to survive.”

The group had paused for Stan, the non-human three idling back awkwardly to keep their distance from the lowly-yet-lethal humans, but Wendy started walking forward again and Stan followed, trying to will himself out of his shock.

“But my dad…it sounds like he’s not doing well?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

A look of compassion flickered over Wendy’s stern features. She sighed. “It’s all relative, right? For our world, he’s doing ok. He’s alive, his son’s somewhat alive, and he has allies. Yeah, our world’s tough, but it’s not gloom and doom 100% of the time. Randy’s a funny guy. He makes us laugh. He’s a pretty good fighter, even when drunk. But enough about Cyber Ghetto. What’s your story, Toolshed?”

Stan tried to push the tragedy of his AU-family out of his mind.

“My life was actually pretty normal until the superpowers thing,” he said. “I grew up in South Park. That probably means nothing to either of you, but it’s this small town in the mountains. Anyway, it turned out that the year my friends and I were born, some weird thing went on nearby with aliens. Because of that, the summer after we graduated from high school, superpowers manifested in a bunch of us. Including you two,” he said, glancing at Cartman and Wendy. “We decided to band together and use our powers for good. For the most part,” he added, thinking of Cartman’s occasional flip-flops. “But one guy—well, one guy and his sidekick—decided to become supervillains instead. That Professor Chaos we saw on the screen? That’s Butters Stotch. He’s the one behind this.”

“Goddamn Butters,” Cartman commiserated.

“That’s too bad,” Wendy said. “Butters is a nice guy in our world. He’s an astronaut who got stranded.”

“He was a nice guy in our world,” Stan said, “until the powers came. They messed with his mind. He just…snapped.”

It felt weird to remember Professor Chaos as Butters, to remember the adventures they’d had throughout their schooldays. Butters was the closest anyone had come to breaking into the quartet that was Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. Hell, there had been plenty of times when they liked Butters more than Cartman. And then there had been times where it seemed it like Butters was Cartman’s best friend, or Kenny’s best friend. He’d even played in Stan’s band. But there was always something that kept him an unspoken distance. They liked Butters, but he wasn’t One Of Them, one of the quadruplet brothers-from-four-different-mothers.

“Butters is a pirate,” said Sheriff Cartman scornfully, interrupting Stan’s thoughts, “under Captain Wendy’s command. They teamed up with the Indians to attack the town. Worse, they lured Kyle’s little brother to their side with a chocolate bar, turned him against his family. What kind of monster talks a child into being a pirate? Poor, dumb kid.”

“Ike?” Stan asked.

Cartman nodded. “Kyle’s just heartbroken over it. We try to reason with Ike every chance we get, but it’s hard when the pirates have so much gold. And chocolate.”

“Wait,” Kyle called out from behind them. “Ike the knight? He’s human. He can’t be my brother.”

“It’s called adoption, dumbass,” sneered Cartman.

“As if an elf would adopt a human,” scoffed Kyle.

“Our group also has a Kyle with an adopted brother,” said Wendy, “who’s an entirely different species. I guess you’re the only Kyle who’s a big bigot.”

“And that’s really Cartman’s shtick,” said Stan.

“Hey!” the sheriff protested.

“His side,” Medusa said, nodding at Poseidon, “also has a Kyle with an adopted brother Ike. Both human.”

“We’re only tangentially on the same side,” Poseidon explained. “We’re on teams that are occasionally aligned under a large, unofficial umbrella that fights against villains like you, the imp, the dark angel, and the other soldiers of Satan. The rest of the Greco-Roman gods and I are obviously in our own separate, superior group from the humans. Especially the Catholics.”

Medusa raised an eyebrow. “Cupid and Hermes, maybe, but Hercules? You? Superior?”

Poseidon raised his trident in anger, so Toolshed brandished his drill. His godly self quickly backed off.

“You’re all being idiots,” snapped Wendy. “My group back home has only survived because we all set aside our differences. Humans, cyborgs, robots, aliens, hybrids…we all work together.”

“She’s right,” Stan said. “Come on. Surely working with humans can’t be that bad.”

Poseidon sighed. “They do make acceptable lovers. If a fish isn’t available.”

Stan couldn’t help himself. “You like…fish dicks?”

His gray-haired self nodded. “Yes, but I’m not picky. Fish vaginas are nice too.”

 _Well, I walked right into that_ , Stan thought.

“There’s something I didn’t need to know,” said Cartman. “So we good?”

Kyle glowered at him. “If you knew the humans I know, you wouldn’t want to work with them either.”

“But we’re not the humans you know,” Wendy pointed out.

But Kyle didn’t let up. “His doppelganger,” he said, pointing at Cartman, “is the wizard king. The most evil and dangerous human in the land.”

Sheriff Cartman snorted. “A wizard? I wear robes and a stupid hat and run around doing magic tricks? Lame.”

“And like I’ve said, he’s a robot in our world,” said Wendy, “a good robot, who is programmed to protect us. So let’s try to forget who we are in other realities and focus on surviving—”

Her point was both interrupted and strengthened by a sudden bolt of light that shot by inches from her head, leaving a burn mark in tree behind her. Another bolt followed a second later, almost hitting one of Medusa’s snakes.

“Everyone down,” Stan ordered.

Cartman and Wendy ignored him and fired into the dense forest in the direction the shots had come from. Cartman had a regular pistol, but Wendy’s rifle sent out something that was shimmering blue.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

“Ice rifle,” she said. “It’ll freeze them in their tracks.”

“I don’t think we hit ‘em,” said Cartman.

Medusa stepped forward, the crossbow that had been strapped to her back now at the ready. Poseidon raised his trident and Kyle clutched his strange, stick-like weapon. There were a few moments of tense silence, then a third blast whizzed through the trees, grazing Stan.

“Ah!” he hissed in pain. A glance at his upper arm revealed scorched skin: a burn. “What the fuck?”

“It’s a laser gun,” Wendy said.

“I can protect us,” Kyle whispered. “On my count, we charge.”

“Oh, yeah, have us run first and sacrifice ourselves so your elfyness isn’t harmed,” said Cartman, rolling his eyes.

“Trust me, you idiot. I have magic. I can shield you all. Just give me a moment.”

“We have to trust him,” Stan said, as they all ducked from another shot. “What other option do we have?”

“Three, two,” Kyle counted, “one! Spirit of the forest!”

Stan was already running when he realized he was surrounded by a shimmering clear bubble. A quick look at the others told him they were, too. A shot from a still unseen laser gun struck the front of Stan’s protective bubble, but dissipated into sparks.

The first gunner they found crouching behind a boulder. A blast from Wendy’s ice rifle froze him in place, and Cartman finished him off. The next was turned into snake by Medusa’s bow, which Stan definitely hadn’t been expecting.

“We should capture one,” he shouted to the others, “and see what information we can get.”

“Too late,” said Cartman as a third gunner collapsed.

“I’ve got this,” yelled Poseidon. “Water is the strongest element!”

The fourth gunner had just come into view, and as Poseidon twirled his trident, water seemed to the form in the air. It swirled around the gunner, confusing and slowing him. Stan jumped forward and tackled him. By the time Stan had him disarmed and pinned, the others had surrounded them.

“Who are you, mortal?” demanded Medusa.

“That’s classified,” the gunner spat out. “All you need to know is that Professor Chaos will win!”

A quick sweep of the area suggested that he was the last of the attackers, but he resolutely refused to provide more info. Most of the group wanted to kill him, but Stan talked them down into letting Medusa turn him into a snake. Wendy pocketed the laser gun as the former gunner slithered away.

“Those were some neat tricks, everyone,” Stan said.

“Here,” Poseidon said. He waved his trident again, forming a floating blob of water, which he moved over to the wound on Stan’s arm.

“Thank you,” Stan said, relieved at the coolness against his burn. “How did you do that?”

“I can pull moisture out of the air.”

“Huh,” Stan said appreciatively. “We’re one weird team, but if we stick together, nothing can stop us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to see the "gritty" South Park movie based on my sci-fi headcanons? It will be primarily shot in orange.


	7. Human Kite & Mysterion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle and Heidi have a heart-to-heart, while Kenny continues to try to fit in with his group...and faces an old nemesis. 
> 
> CW: child abuse in the Catholic Church.

**Human Kite ( & Calamity Heidi, Friar Jimmy, Youth Pastor Craig, War Boy Tweek & Program Stan)**

While flying above the fight, shielding his allies and hitting enemies with his laser beam eyes, the Human Kite had to grudgingly reconfirm what he’d learned the last time the Coon had ditched the Freedom Pals: it sucked to watch from above as your teammates got whaled on without any ground-level muscle. Cartman was not exactly a fast or agile fighter, but he did a good job of serving as his troops’ bouncer. Which made sense, because after turning twenty-one, whenever Cartman rage-quit the superhero/supervillain businesses, he would drive down to Denver, walk up to whatever club he wanted, announce he was the bouncer now, and get hired on the spot. Kyle and Stan had visited him at work once, and some asshole who had gotten in when Cartman was on break and then made the monumentally stupid move of starting shit when Cartman was no longer on break had actually burst into tears when he saw the behemoth marching towards him. Kyle still secretly relished the perfect arc that douche had made when Cartman threw him out the door.

But alas, they did not currently have Cartman, in any iteration, or some guy named Big Mesquite Murph, whom Heidi had also recommended. Honestly, Kyle would have settled for their jacked former school principal as their battalion bodyguard at this point. But as it was, he just had to watch from a distance as a screaming Tweek got smacked repeatedly in the face with the Book of Mormon by an eerily cheerful missionary. At least Friar Jimmy could heal people; they were going to need it.

“Can someone help out Tweek?” Kyle called down to his crew.

“A little busy here,” yelled Heidi, who was tussling with what appeared to be two furious choirboys.

“Craig?” Kyle asked.

“Hold on. I’m stopping them from doing magic,” said the pastor, who didn’t appear to be doing anything.

Then Kyle had to dodge a burning menorah candle thrown by some Orthodox schmuck standing on top of the fort they were trying to pass. “That’s not what those are for!” he snapped.

Just when Kyle was really starting to worry about how the battle might go, he heard the robotic-tinged voice of his best friend.

“Freeze protocol!” Program Stan announced.

Before Kyle had a chance to wonder what that meant, Program Stan slammed his weapon—a glowing disk—to the ground, and their enemies froze in place. Tweek screamed again, but managed to knock his bright-eyed teenage attacker to the ground. Mostly thanks to Program Stan, the battle eventually ended in their favor.

“Thanks for nothing, Craig,” Kyle said afterwards, while the group gathered around Jimmy for healing.

“Now don’t discou-cou-count Pastor Craig,” Jimmy said. “Without him, any one of us could have been combusted at any time.”

“Wow, thanks, Craig!” chirped Tweek. “Wait. We could combust at any time? Gah!”

“Whatever,” said Craig.

“I’m just glad my husband happened to give me one of his pistols shortly before I was transported here,” said Heidi. “Usually I just fight with whatever’s around, like broken bottles.”

Kyle rolled his eyes at her mention of her husband. Once they started walking again, he fell in step beside her.

“So…you and Cartman…you’re happy together? Everything’s ok at home?”

Heidi sighed. “Yes, perfectly. We go together like coyotes and howling, or tumbleweeds and dusty roads. Why are you so skeptical of that?”

“Back in my world, you two had a pretty rocky relationship. No, scratch that. Your off-and-on relationship was a living nightmare for both of you and for everyone around you. For the entire town, really.”

“That sounds a bit dramatic,” Heidi said.

“I’m serious!”

“Give an example, then.”

“Well,” said Kyle, “there was the time in high school Cartman dumped you publicly, in song, during the Fall Formal Dance. Then a week later, you drove out to the middle of nowhere late at night and slashed your own tire and called him for rescue saying you got a flat, hoping to win him back. Against all reason, he actually went, but at some point saw your knife in the backseat and realized what you’d done. The two of you started arguing, but were interrupted when a serial killer pulled up, bound your arms at gunpoint, tossed your phones, and forced you into his van. He drove you all the way over the Utah border, where it was later learned he killed and dismembered his victims. However, before he could get to his preferred murder spot, he was driven to the breaking point by the two of you bickering in the backseat, so he shot himself in the head—while driving—and the van went into the Colorado River. Even with your arms bound, the two of you managed to escape the sinking van and swim to shore, where you made up. After chewing through each other’s restraints, you wandered the Utah desert until you found a collective of off-the-grid types who gave you peyote. You spent two weeks in a drugged-out haze living in the commune until Cartman sobered up and remembered he hated hippies. So then you guys stole the group’s Burning Man project, which was a steam-powered tractor shaped like a unicorn, and drove to the nearest small town, where Cartman called me because he couldn’t remember his mom’s phone number—at three in the morning. Then you broke up again on the drive back home to South Park.”

Having finished, Kyle stared at Heidi, waiting for her reaction.

“Wow,” said Heidi after a moment, taking all that in. “That’s certainly a bumpier road than me and my Eric have had. We’ve hardly ever quarreled. What’s a phone? And a van? And hippies? And Burning Man?”

Kyle sighed. “Just future stuff. But you see why I’d be concerned, right?”

“We did spend some time in the desert doing peyote once,” Heidi mused, ignoring his rhetorical question. “It was beautiful. Just the two of us, naked, making love like animals in the wild.”

“Oh, God!” cried Kyle, gagging.

“We got terrible sunburns, though.”

“Ok, ok,” Kyle said, holding up his hands in defeat. “I won’t bug you about your relationship anymore as long as you tell me nothing about your sex life. Deal?”

**Mysterion ( & Zen Cartman, Witch Doctor Token, Sharpshooter Shelly, Marine Craig & Le Bard Jimmy)**

As the group walked through a vast scrubland where the only mark of civilization was the trail, they were treated to several new songs by Jimmy: “The Unimpeachable Virtue and Peerless Beauty of Princess Kenny,” “Token the Rogue and the Foolish Drow Elves,” and “Brave Sir Robin Tweek.” Mysterion walked silently behind with Eric, who joined in the singing but kindly stayed beside him. Eventually, though, everyone’s thoughts turned from music to food.

“What I wouldn’t do for some jackrabbit stew,” sighed Shelly.

“I just don’t understand where all the ch-ch-chickens are,” said Jimmy. “I can’t believe humans can survive in worlds where you’re not co-constantly up to your ears in chickens.”

“The most nourishing food is the food of the mind,” said Eric.

“That’s a nice platitude, monk, but I’m so hungry, I’d even eat those wafers the Catholics have,” said Token.

Kenny flashed back to his Catholic upbringing, South Park Church, and the jokes surrounding the religion that had been so popular with their parents. His own past as a foul-mouthed degenerate came rushing back, and he thought, _I’ll pull a Jimmy and tell a joke._ _This could be my in with the group!_

“Communion wafers,” he began, “the only thing Catholic priests gobble up more often than little boy wieners.”

Kenny waited for the chuckles. There were none.

Instead, Token came to a complete halt and turned around to face him. “What the fuck did you say?”

Kenny’s stomach lurched. “Uh, sorry, it’s just in our world, there’s this whole thing with the Catholic Church—”

“Yes, there was in our world, too, and I can’t believe you would joke about something like that,” Token snapped. “I’m obviously not Catholic myself, but many of my colleagues are, and for you to dismiss the work they’ve put in to reforming the Church is despicable.”

Kenny held up his hands. “Sorry, I was just—”

Eric put his hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “Clearly, Mysterion misspoke and feels remorse.”

But Token continued, irate. “Father Maxi has dedicated his life to ending abuse in the Church. It was his action that brought our Mystical Team together in the first place. He was the one who reached out to powerful beings like myself, the Ninjew, Jesus, and others to be able to overthrow the giant spider that ruled the Vatican. He even got the Greco-Roman gods to join the fight! Do you know how hard it is to get Greco-Roman gods to fight against pederasty?”

“I imagine it’s a tough sell,” Kenny said meekly.

“That battle was what brought us all together,” Token continued. “Thanks to Father Maxi, we were victorious. With his guidance, along with the leadership of Pope Timmy, the Catholic Church has entered a new era. I’m proud to call them my allies.”

“Timmy’s the pope?” Jimmy asked.

The witch doctor nodded. “Also known as the Young Pope, he has implemented many creative reforms. Not only is child abuse no longer tolerated, but he has allowed drag queens to become nuns.”

“I wish I could send my dad to that nunnery,” muttered Shelly.

“Oddly, gay marriage remains a controversial issue among adherents,” Token added, “but I think they’ll get there.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “What kind of loser is against gay marriage? Not that I’d ever get married myself.”

That startled Kenny out of his embarrassment over his attempt at humor backfiring. “You wouldn’t?”

Craig shook his head. “In my world, there’s no time for things like vows and ceremonies. There’s only day-to-day survival. I have someone I’d give my life to, and some outdated ritual wouldn’t change that. So what’s the point?”

Kenny hesitated before asking, “It’s Tweek, isn’t it?”

Craig stared at him. “How did you know?”

“You’re both in my world. You are married, there.”

Craig looked startled for a moment before his face switched back to its typical nonchalance. “Oh,” he said, turning away.

“Love can transcend not only customs and traditions, but space and time as well,” said Eric.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” said Craig.

“How the hell did we end up talking about marriage anyway?” Shelly asked. “I’m still starving!”

“Look at that!” cried Token, pointing up.

A flock of common gray pigeons was flying against the turquoise sky on the horizon.

“Aha!” cried Jimmy. “My moment to sh-sh-shine.”

With that, he struck the lethal note on his lute, and the birds fell to the ground.

“You turd! You didn’t leave any for me to shoot,” said Shelly.

“There are more,” said Craig, pointing to another flock.

Shelly quickly shot down those as well.

“Hooray! We shall feast!” said Token.

Kenny hurried to make himself useful, wading into the bushes with the others to retrieve the dead birds. Although he was accustomed to going hungry, he was glad they would have a hearty dinner. He was even used to eating pigeons. He and Kevin had sometimes shot pigeons and squirrels with BB guns out in the backyard when food was low.

Then he heard squeaking and rustling in the vegetation. Maybe they would have squirrel today, too.

But then he caught a glimpse of naked tail—and not the large naked tail of a possum like Mr. Possy, but the smaller naked tail of one of his greatest nemeses.

“Rats!” he cried. “Fuck!”

There was no time to run. The swarm was already upon him. He punched and kicked, trying to rid himself of the gray, white, and brown vermin. He was behind a bush, so the others could only make out him thrashing around.

“Mysterion, what’s happening?” called Craig.

But it was too late. Darkness enveloped Kenny McCormick once more.

When Kenny opened his eyes, he saw familiar faces above him: Cartman, Token, Craig, Jimmy, and even Shelly. But why did Token have face paint? And why was Cartman bald? Then he remembered: he was in the strange world in which Professor Chaos had imprisoned him.

“I see death walks with you as well,” said Token.

Kenny sat up. “That’s one of my powers. You can’t kill that which never dies.”

“Uh, yes you can,” said Shelly. “Those rats literally killed you and you literally died. You just came back to life afterward.”

_God damn it, she’s right. Why have I been saying that?_

“Well, let’s get dinner started,” said Craig.

The others walked off, but Eric smiled and lent Kenny a hand up.

“We all take our own journeys through this universe,” the monk said.

“Yeah, well my journey sucks,” said Kenny, brushing the dust off his Mysterion costume. “I’m destined to keep dying and being reborn forever, never escaping this immortal coil.” 

“I believe we all are reborn after death, with reincarnation,” said Eric. “What happens to you is just a variation on that.”

“I don’t see any nirvana in my future,” Kenny said. “All this power has given me is an overbearing sense of responsibility and dread. Am I going to have to watch all my friends and family die of old age? Will I keep aging, still coming back to life when my body is a withered husk?”

“Kenny,” said Eric, “you do not know your destiny. It might not be what you think.”

“I hope not,” he sighed.

The monk patted his shoulder. “Go help with dinner. I will gather leaves to eat.”

Kenny wrinkled his nose. “You’re vegetarian?”

“Vegan, actually. I cannot harm another living being.”

“Then how are you…” he gestured at the monk’s size.

“Chips and guacamole are vegan,” said Eric sagely. “As are French fries and falafels.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This classic bop was written for Le Bard Jimmy and Robin Tweek: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYFefppqEtE


	8. The Coon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Child care, underpants gnomes, and a proposition worthy of the Garden of Betrayal.

**The Coon ( & Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Smuggler Ike & Gizmo Ike)**

“I have to pee!”

The Coon groaned. If there was one thing he’d learned in the past approximately 24 hours with two kindergarteners, it was that kindergarteners had to pee. All the time. Did the Ike he knew have to pee this much at five? Had he? He tried to remember the urination habits of his early life, but the only occasion that stood out was when he, Kenny, Stan, and Kyle had disastrously tried to put out a fire by pissing on it in preschool.

Cartman held out his hand for the tiny pirate version of Ike to take. As the only adult male in the group, he had gradually become the Ikes’ default bathroom chaperone, despite his multiple attempts to pin the task on one of the women.

“Come on, Giz,” he said, holding out his other hand toward the brown and white fluffball.

“Don’t hafta go,” Gizmo protested.

“You need to try anyway,” Cartman said. He had also learned that if one of the Ikes said they didn’t have to go, there was a 100% chance they would announce that they needed to five minutes later. “Come on. Even if you don’t have to pee, don’t you want to show your wiener to that bush and tell it who’s boss?”

That did the trick, and Gizmo scurried forward and took Cartman’s other hand. He led them just off the trail to a nearby shrub.

“All right, boys, you gotta kill this bush monster.”

“Hooray!” yelled Ike, peeing on the bush.

“Take that!” yelled Gizmo, who had indeed needed to pee.

Cartman stared off into the distance while the boys did their business. The trees had thinned out in this part of the forest, and they were once again in open space. That meant less protection, but so far that day, they had encountered no attackers. The sky was a vivid blue and the temperature was perfect. He knew they weren’t making stellar time on their journey to Destroyer Castle, but honestly, this hiking trip wasn’t so bad. Even with the kids and a Wendy Testaburger. He wouldn’t mind spending more time with…

He found his gaze switching from the landscape to the three women. Well, mostly to one of the women. The woman who wasn’t a woman where he came from.

_Who knew Kenny would be so cool as a chick?_ he thought, looking away.

“All right, boys, you done?” he asked.

“We killed the bush monster!” announced Ike.

“Good job!”

He led them back to the others, and made eye contact with Princess Kenny as they neared. They both smiled. _Oh, dang, this can’t be happening. It’s like…quasi-incest. Except not. It’s just…sort of taboo? Oh no, that makes it sound hotter. No, I’m over-thinking this. There’s nothing incestuous or taboo about it. It’s as if Kenny had a twin sister. Like if Karen were the same age as Kenny. Ew, I wouldn’t hit on Karen. But this isn’t Karen. This is a different, hypothetical sister. Kenny’s hypothetical long-lost identical twin trans sister. My best friend’s sister. Nothing weird about a guy crushing on his best friend’s sister. Wait a second…is this Friends? Am I Chandler?_

“Is everything ok, Eric?” Princess Kenny asked.

“Yeah! Everything’s great. Why?”

“You looked very concerned all of a sudden.”

“Oh. I was just thinking about…how we’re, you know, imprisoned by a supervillain.”

“Right,” said Princess Kenny, frowning slightly. “You must be eager to get back to your friends and family.”

“Totally,” Cartman agreed, trying to block out how Wendy was looking at them both with an arched eyebrow. “It’s all I can think about.” _Jesus, stop talking!_ “You must also be wanting to get back to your kingdom.”

“Of course,” she said hesitantly, still looking concerned.

Blissfully, they were interrupted by Bebe. “Unknown entity approaching.”

The group followed her gaze. Rushing towards them was what Cartman could only describe as a swarm of tiny green traffic cones. A high-pitched chattering was audible, but he couldn’t make out any words. He and most of the group looked on in confusion, but Princess Kenny let out a horrified gasp.

“Pick up the children!” she shrieked.

“What are they?” Wendy asked.

“Gnomes! Underpants gnomes! We need to run!”

Eric complied by lifting Ike and Gizmo but said, “They don’t look very lethal. And what do you mean ‘underpants’ gnomes?”

Princess Kenny already had him and Wendy by their arms, trying to drag them off the trail. “There’s no time to explain. We just have to run! Hurry, Bebe!”

But the chattering was now coming towards them from multiple sides. Tiny green hats poked through the grass above flashes of red jackets as the gnomes ran closer.

“We’re surrounded!” Princess Kenny lamented.

Cartman cast Princess Kenny a skeptical look. These things were tiny. Surely they could just step over them, kick them away, or even stomp on them if needed.

Bebe started firing as they neared, but their numbers were impressive. Cartman strode up to a group, ignoring the princess’s warnings, and started kicking.

And they started stabbing. They were armed with tiny silver weapons, and they were enraged and vicious. It was as if he had kicked a hornets’ nest.

“Oh, shit!” he screamed, trying to shake the gnomes clinging to his ankles. He quickly switched the Ikes, who were shouting to join the fight, to one arm, and powered up his claws on his other hand to swipe. He slashed with his flesh-shredding nails, kicked, and stomped, but there always seemed to be more. _What’s wrong with me?_ he wondered. _These little pricks are tiny. But I don’t feel like I’m fighting at my max strength._ He hated to admit it, but he longed for Super Craig to appear and send the gnomes all flying with his Super Punch. Or even for Wonder Tweek to make a tornado to suck them up. 

Behind him, Wendy and Bebe continued to fire their weapons. Bebe was having the time of her partially synthetic life, but Wendy’s arrows, especially, were not effective against so many. The gnomes soon reached them, too. Princess Kenny frantically struck them with her scepter as the tiny army tore at the hem of her dress.

Cartman continued to struggle with one arm to take down the green hats, when to his horror, the Ikes managed to jump free.

“Hooray!” they yelled, landing on the ground.

“Ike! Giz!” he shouted, trying to dislodge a gnome that had made it all the way up to his knee. “Get back here!”

But Gizmo and Ike started tackling gnomes with abandon, and actually seemed to be doing well against them.

“Kenny, can’t you do your trick?” Wendy asked.

“It won’t be of much use against this many.”

Fortunately, the arduous task of defeating all the gnomes was eventually completed. After the last gnome fell to the ground with an angry squeak, the group let out a sigh of relief—except for Bebe, who was positively jittery with energy. All of the adults were wounded from the knee down. The Ikes had only survived because Cartman had scooped them back up as soon as they had started shouting “ouchie.”

“Well, that sucked,” said Cartman, examining the damage through his ravaged pant leg.

“I concur,” said Wendy. “Group together. I’ll do healing shots.”

Cartman stifled a groan as the healing arrow hit his body. God, he was going to miss this. If he had this Wendy at his back, continuously healing him, he’d be unstoppable on the battlefield. Maybe they could make an exchange between their worlds, and keep Angel Wendy while giving away Call Girl. That would probably be better for Stan, too. Maybe he could quit it with his angsty, longing stares whenever Wendy’s back was turned. Trading Wendies would really be a win for everyone.

Then Cartman noticed the angel herself was still bleeding, her bloodied shins visible under her torn robe.

“You didn’t heal yourself,” he said.

“I can’t,” Wendy replied. “I can only heal others.”

“Because of angelic selflessness, or a design flaw?” 

Wendy smiled wryly. “For real selflessness, you should see the monk version of you. Don’t worry, I’ll heal eventually.”

“Want a piggyback ride?” Cartman offered. “Since you can’t, you know, fly.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hang on,” Cartman said, digging through his supply belt. “I might actually have some painkillers in here. Oh! I forgot about these!”

He triumphantly pulled out a battered plastic bag with two gummi bears in it.

“Candy! Candy!” Ike cheered, leaping up and down.

“Nice try, but this is adult-only candy,” Cartman said. He turned to Wendy. “They’re pot gummies, top-grade. A friend’s dad makes them. They’ll take the edge off.”

Wendy shook her head. “No, I should stay alert.”

“If you want to play martyr, suit yourself,” Cartman said, pocketing the edibles.

“I can at least fix our clothes,” Princess Kenny said. “And our hair.”

She waved her scepter, and in a rainbow flash all the damage the gnomes had done to the group’s shoes and lowermost inches of clothes were repaired. Not only that, they were all spotlessly clean, and everyone’s hair was perfect. Bebe’s blonde curls bounced in mathematically pristine spirals. Cartman looked like he had just been styled on a movie set. Wendy’s locks flowed in raven waves beneath her halo.

“Yay!” cheered Ike and Gizmo.

“So that’s why you always look so pret—” Cartman caught himself. “Pretty good.”

Princess Kenny somehow managed to blush and gloat at the same time.

“By the way,” said Wendy, stroking her newly smooth, shining strands of hair, “why are they called underpants gnomes?”

“Because they steal underwear,” Princess Kenny replied.

“Ew,” everyone said.

“Why would they do that?” asked Bebe. “Is selling secondhand underwear profitable in your world?”

Princess Kenny shook her head. “It’s a mystery.”

By nightfall, they had reached a hilly area and made camp there. They had rabbit for dinner, courtesy of Bebe. Worn out from the battle and healing others, Wendy had fallen asleep early, next to the Ikes, who were blanketed in the Coon’s red cape. Bebe stood guard.

Princess Kenny and Cartman were sitting by the campfire, and she caught his gaze.

“Do you want to move farther away?” she asked softly. “So we can talk without waking the others?”

Cartman’s heart leapt. “Sure.”

They wandered over beyond the other side of the hill and sat down on a flat, level boulder. The night was clear, the sky bright with stars. Cartman wished he knew constellations better, so he could tell if they were the same as on his world. He pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter where they were. At the present, he was sitting beside a beautiful woman.

“So, what did you want to—”

Princess Kenny cut him off by raising one hand. “I need to talk to you about something important.” She paused, her expression worried, but determined. “At this point, I am almost entirely sure you are not the wizard king. If I am wrong…well, so be it. Then your ruse was very clever and you win, Grand Wizard, and I accept my fate.”

Cartman looked at her in confusion. “What is—”

Princess Kenny looked into his eyes. “How I wish you were the Eric Cartman we had in Kupa Keep.”

Cartman grinned. “Because I’m hot? I mean, I assume the other guy looks roughly the same, but I might be in better shape with the superhero stuff.”

“No! Not that you aren’t…you are…more…” She reddened and looked away.

“I don’t blame you. I mean, with a father who was a pro athlete and a mom who’s a former Playboy centerfold, I was always destined for a glow-up.”

“Please be serious!” Princess Kenny begged. She explained in a rush, “I wish you were the Eric we had in Kupa Keep because the one we do have is a tyrant!”

The sentence said, she let out a shaky breath, seemingly prepared for the wrath of the Grand Wizard.

“Oh,” Cartman said, casting his eyes down. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

The princess sighed. “He’s not like you at all. I mean, you’re kind of a jerk,” she said, smiling fondly, “but he’s dangerous. Truly dangerous. The citizens of Kupa Keep live in fear of him. But no one does anything, because he’s also possibly one of the few who could protect the kingdom from an elf attack. On the other hand, many of us are strong as well. And if we had you…” she trailed off.

Cartman took a few moments to absorb what she was saying. Then he burst out laughing. “You scheming usurper. You want me to off this guy for you!”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I know I must sound horrible, but—”

“No, no. I love it. Let me guess: you take over as queen?”

Princess Kenny stood up, tears gone. She raised her chin, assuming regal poise. “Maybe. Maybe I would take over. People have come to me with that suggestion. But what I have been thinking is…maybe we could substitute you for him.”

“And we could rule together,” Cartman finished.

She looked at him with guarded hope on her lovely, Kenny-ish features.

“God,” said Cartman, standing, “you are so much more fun than the Mysterion we have at home. You want me to go with you to your world, to Kupa Keep?”

“If it’s possible.”

“So we get to Kupa Keep, overthrow this even more assholish version of me, and then I keep my fingers crossed that you don’t stab me in the back once you’ve gotten what you wanted?”

“Eric, I swear—” she said, holding out her hands.

Cartman took them in his own.

“I’ll consider it. Give me time to think it over. I mean, it sounds like a gamble,” he said with a smirk, “but a little gambling is fun when you’re with me.”

She smiled, and leaned in.

_Oh, God. I want to kiss her. But what if I can only think of that time in middle school when Kenny and I kissed playing spin-the-bottle?_

A child’s cry interrupted the moment.

“Eric! I peed!” Ike’s voice called out, followed by weeping.

Cartman sighed. “I’ll get back to you on the coup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed, I love a good callback. Mum-mum-mum-mah! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFYEIyCsXyQ


	9. Human Kite & Toolshed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Human Kite's group, Pastor Craig continues to not have a good time. Meanwhile, Toolshed and Ice Sniper Wendy talk about their worlds' versions of each other...and romance.

**Human Kite ( & Calamity Heidi, Friar Jimmy, Youth Pastor Craig, War Boy Tweek & Program Stan)**

Friar Jimmy was attracting an audience. He had arrived with his bird, but now several others had joined, including, alas, a flock of chickens that had been sacrificed for the greater good. Besides the avians, some rats, two rabbits, and a frog had joined.

“I wish we had you in Cyber Ghetto,” Tweek said. “We’d never go hungry.”

“My fellow child of God, I made an exception with the ch-chickens, but these animals have come to me with nothing but trust and the love of the Lord in their hearts, and we should respect that.”

“You’d be a great cattle rustler,” said Heidi. “You wouldn’t even have to try.”

Kyle paused for a moment to study the map. It was clear that it wasn’t to scale, but from the looks of it, they weren’t too far from the mountain where Destroyer Castle sat. The map showed a river near the mountain’s base.

“I’m going up,” he told the group. “I think we might be close to water.”

True, they had stolen some supplies from the fort, which they were lugging in backpacks stolen from the Mormon missionaries, but it would be good to have their water replenished before climbing the mountain.

Kyle rose in the air effortlessly, enjoying the sudden solitude and freedom. He’d never get tired of flight. In the distance, he could make out the river and the imposing mountain beyond it. _What does Chaos want with us?_ he wondered. _Should we even be going where he tells us?_ _I doubt he’s simply going to let us go once we reach the castle. But what choice do we have?_

Before descending, he made a slow circle, trying to spot any friends or foes. He saw no one.

“The river’s about three miles ahead,” he reported upon touching ground. “I think we should push on and make camp there for the night. Then we can start up the mountain in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Heidi.

“Father Craig,” called Jimmy to the pastor, who was walking far from the group off the trail, through the thick grasses. “Three more miles to the river, all right?”

Pastor Craig, arms crossed over his chest, nodded tersely and then went back to his contemplation.

“Is your friend ok?” asked Tweek. “Is he upset because of me? I guess it would be weird if you were against gay people and then suddenly found out that in at least two other worlds, you were, you know…”

Heidi snorted. “I saw how he was checking out those Mormon boys. No way is this sudden.”

“We’ve all wondered about Father Cr-Craig,” admitted Jimmy. “Do you know how many hours he spends in front of a very sexy statue of St. Sebastian for ‘reflection’? Honestly, I think the imp knows it and has the h-h-hots for him.”

“It doesn’t really matter, though,” said Kyle, “if you have to be celibate anyway.”

“Priest Maxi is working on that,” said Jimmy, “but there’s been resistance within the Church.”

“Too radical?” Kyle guessed.

“Somewhat,” Jimmy conceded, “but also, we don’t want look like a bunch of P-P-Protestants.”

“What are those?” asked Tweek.

“Ugh,” Kyle and Jimmy responded in unison.

“Is it a religious thing?” Tweek pressed. “The warlord I used to serve made us worship him, and chrome and machines and stuff. That’s why I have this,” he said, gesturing to the intricate scarring on his bare chest. “When I escaped, I met Craig—my Craig. He was also on the run, having deserted the space marines.”

Tweek smiled at the memory, but then there came a metallic clang and a scream from the Craig they were currently stuck with.

“Fuck! Fuck! In the name of—Satan’s balls!”

The rest of the group ran over to the swearing pastor. His left leg was caught in what appeared to be a beefed-up waffle iron.

“It’s a chomper,” Kyle said grimly.

“A wh-what?” Jimmy asked.

“It’s a Professor Chaos trademark. Crushes your leg and gives you an electric shock.”

Kyle remembered the first time they encountered the cruel contraption. It was early in their superhero careers, when they were about 19. They had rushed to Chaos’s last reported location, but found no one there. Kenny, however, inadvertently discovered the chomper with his leg. He’d been well into his Mysterion persona by then, doing his best to project stern gravitas, but had quickly reclaimed the foul language of his childhood, screaming colorful curses into Kyle’s shoulder and trying to crush Cartman’s uncrushable hands in his own while Stan frantically worked to take apart the trap with his power tools.

“I wish Toolshed were here,” said Kyle, carefully examining the chomper without moving it, “He can get these undone in seconds now.”

“Let me and Program Stan see,” said Tweek.

Kyle stepped aside for the glowing blue cyborg and the war boy. Craig looked less than thrilled at Tweek’s proximity, but was clearly in too much pain to argue.

“Just get it off,” he hissed.

“Don’t worry,” said Tweek, unusually confident. “We do this sort of thing all the time. Nothing made of metal goes to waste in Cyber Ghetto.”

Using Tweek’s metal spear and the cyborg’s hands, they had the trap separated in about a minute. Craig gasped as he was freed, and pulled his injured leg towards himself. Jimmy gently moved his hands away so he could take a look. His bird perched on Craig’s head, making comforting chirps.

“Bro-bro-broken ankle, multiple breaks in the foot, and some burns,” Jimmy declared. “I can heal it, although it will take some ti-time. It might be an hour until he can walk on it without pain. It’s too bad the angel isn’t here. She’s faster at healing than I am.”

Kyle frowned. He knew that mending broken bones in an hour was a literal miracle, but the delay meant they probably wouldn’t make it to the river by nightfall.

Jimmy smiled at Tweek and Program Stan. “Thanks, you two.”

After a nudge from his colleague, Craig added, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem!” said Tweek, gathering up the pieces of the chomper. “We’ll bring this scrap back to our world. Stuart’ll want it!”

“Stuart…McCormick?” Kyle asked hesitantly.

Tweek nodded. “Kenny-Tron’s dad. He sure loves his scrap metal. And his beer.”

Kyle felt a twinge in his chest remembering the time his parents had petitioned for guardianship of Kenny and Karen. They had the best chance, his parents explained. He knew what they meant: it would be too easy for Liane’s past as a pornstar and the Marshes’ work in the marijuana industry to be thrown in their faces. The Broflovskis were comparatively spotless: a nice upper-middle-class family who had been approved for adoption before. Kyle had been both nervous and excited. On one hand, their family would drastically change overnight, and he’d be sharing a bedroom. On the other, not only would one of his best friends in the world now be living with him, but that same friend and his innocent sister would be in a better environment.

Stuart had been apoplectic, and had shown up drunk outside the Broflovskis’ house. “So you all think I’m white trash who can’t take care of my own kids?” he’d yelled. “You think just ‘cause you’ve got a fancy legal degree you can take care of my own goddamn kids better than me? Huh, Gerald? Look at you! You walk around like you didn’t grow up smoking and drinking everyday with me from when we were twelve on! Fuck you and your Jersey whore wife!”

And then their petition failed. The McCormicks had scrounged up enough for a lawyer and successfully fought back. The only result of the whole debacle was that the McCormicks were even more in debt, more humiliated, more angry, and more isolated. Kenny had had to hang out with his friends in secret for a bit.

“What if I turn out like my parents?” Kenny mournfully asked when the foursome was alone at Stark’s Pond. “What if it’s an endless cycle of addiction and dysfunction and I’m already on it?”

“You aren’t!” Kyle and Stan had protested, while Cartman said, “If you turn out like your dad and have kids, we’ll skip the lawyers and go straight to kidnapping.”

“You’d never get away with it,” Kenny lamented.

“Hello? Do you know me?” Cartman asked. “And Kyle? And me and Kyle working together? So me, Stan, and Kyle kidnap your kids, right? And we probably all have our own kids and wives or whatever by then, so we all go underground. We move out to the desert, get stupid matching clothes, and pretend we’re some fundamentalist sect. We’ll do homeschooling, homesteading, off-the-grid and all that. Just like Heidi and me saw in Utah, only no peyote or Burning Man.”

Over the next hour the boys decided on the name of their fake cult, the cover story they would tell outsiders, and sketched a map of their compound, which included goat farming, an ice cream parlor, and a dirt bike racing track. Then they decided that since they would be so sequestered anyway and could easily keep alcohol and/or drugs out of reach, they might as well kidnap Kenny too and force him to detox. Then he could be with his kids after all. 

“See?” Cartman had said, once they were all laughing and the sun was setting. “Hypothetical problem solved.”

Kyle longed to know how his friends were now. Professor Chaos had mentioned capturing four of the Freedom Pals in his address, and Kyle assumed the other three were the three he had entered Chaos’s building with: Toolshed, Mysterion, and the Coon. Were they somewhere in this same world? Maybe with other doppelgangers? Had they also had to fight Zionists, Mormons, and choirboys? What if they were injured like Craig, but with no one around to help them? _Please be ok, guys_ , he thought. 

**Toolshed ( & Poseidon Stan, Medusa Bebe, Kyle of the Drow Elves, Ice Sniper Wendy & Sheriff Cartman)**

“How’s your arm feeling?” Wendy asked Toolshed over dinner around the campfire.

Earlier, she had helped Stan patch up his burn with the first-aid kit he kept hooked to his toolbelt.

“Better,” he said.

“Lasers hurt like a bitch,” she replied, startling him with a word “his” Wendy wouldn’t typically use anymore. “I’ve had my share of hits over the years.”

“Sounds like your world really sucks.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. There are probably things about all of our worlds that aren’t ideal, right?”

Stan thought of Mr. Garrison’s brief tenure as president. “True.”

Across the campfire, the Kyle-elf and Sheriff Cartman were talking and surprisingly getting along. Kyle had only deigned to sit next to the human after being unsubtly hit on multiple times by Poseidon. The god of the seas was then stuck sitting next to his enemy Medusa, and the two were discussing if some demon they both knew was ever going to get to fuck some priest they both knew.

“Obviously, I don’t want him being seduced by someone on your side,” Poseidon was saying, “but by Zeus’s thunderbolt, something has to give. You should see how he looks at Hermes’ ass. Cupid’s begging to be allowed to strike some sense into him, but the pope won’t let him. Says he has to figure it out for himself. Plus, they’re still on their celibacy kick, like a bunch of Athenas and Artemises. Can you imagine?”

“You’re obviously very different from your counterpart over there,” Wendy said to Stan. “It makes me wonder what Program Stan was like before he was altered. Cyborgs are so commonplace in Cyber Ghetto that I never really thought about it before.”

“I hope he was a good guy,” said Stan.

“I’m sure he was,” Wendy said. “He still is. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

Stan shivered at the thought of being kidnapped and reprogramed. “It’s creepy to think about. Sounds like a fate worse than death.”

Wendy frowned. “I get it, but don’t say that if you ever meet a cyborg. Program Stan still has a life. He has a purpose, and he has a father who loves him. He even has a sort of friendship with a few others. At night, he usually keeps watch with Kenny-Tron and AWESOM-O, and when our Kyle’s back from bounty hunting, he joins them. I don’t know what they talk about, but I always feel reassured seeing the four of them standing guard.”

 _That’s me, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny,_ Stan realized. _I guess some things stay the same._

“Anyway,” Wendy continued, “what am I like in your world?”

Stan’s heart skipped a beat. _It would be totally weird if I told her we dated, right? I can’t tell her that. I’ll just avoid that fact. It’ll be easy._ “Well, you’re a superhero, like I said. You zap people, with these purple bolts of electricity.”

“That’s my favorite color,” said Wendy with a smile. Her jacket was indeed purple. “What else? I an asshole? You can tell me. I won’t be offended.”

Stan felt sweat break out on his back. “No. You’re really cool. You care a lot about social justice and always have. You’re passionate about causes. You’re also really smart. Always did well in school. You were going to go to a top college, before our powers manifested.”

“School?” Wendy scoffed. “That’s a luxury now. Well, that Wendy sounds smarter than me, at least. She probably didn’t have a tryst with Prince Gregory of Yardalia.”

Stan’s stomach churned. “Gregory of Yardale?”

Wendy laughed. “Oh no, she didn’t! Poor girl. That was back when I was still doing romance, before my home was…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He ran off with some revolutionary who was fighting against the Yardalia monarchy.”

“But you don’t ‘do romance,’ now?” Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head. “No. There are some couplings in our group, and that’s fine, but it’s not for me. There’s too much going on and too many ways to lose someone. In my opinion, it clouds your judgement. Gregory died protecting that revolutionary he dumped me for. Then the Mole—that was his name—went off the rails and died in what was basically a suicide mission storming the Imperium Palace. Such a waste. I’ve had some flings since then, but I won’t ever enter a serious relationship again. Hey, are you ok?”

Stan could feel himself going green. He tried to say he was fine, but ended up vomiting instead. Everyone looked at him in alarm.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, wiping his mouth. “I just do that sometimes. Sorry.”

Kyle wrinkled his nose and muttered something about humans being disgusting before turning back to Cartman to continue their discussion about forms of government.

“Don’t worry about it,” Wendy said. “I’ve seen grosser stuff. Anyway, she’s not still with Gregory, is she?”

“No. That was a long time ago.”

“Good. Prince Gregory was kind of a—”

“We also dated!” Stan blurted out. “We were childhood sweethearts but we broke up years ago,” he explained in a rush. “But it’s fine. We still work together and everything’s fine. I don’t care about her at all except as a fellow fighter for justice.”

“Oh,” said Wendy. “Well…I’m glad you can still work together for the greater good.”

“Yeah,” Stan said, regretting everything and wanting to die.

He could feel the rest of the group staring at him again.

“Well, I think I’m going to turn in,” said Wendy. “Who knows what dangers we’ll face tomorrow? Good night." 

She got up and left. Stan buried his face in his hands. _Why did I say that? Now I’ve made it awkward._ _All I had to do was not say that. Is it better or worse that I said I didn’t care about the Wendy I know? Argh!_

“Huh,” said Sheriff Cartman. “In our world, Captain Wendy’s been banging this buccaneer who looks like Medusa for years. I can’t even picture her with a man.”

“Someone who looks like me?” Medusa asked. “I can’t blame her.”

“No kidding,” said Poseidon. “Sorry, human version of me, but if I had to choose between sex with someone who looked like me but wasn’t a god and didn’t even have a majestic beard, and someone who looked like Medusa, I’d go with the copy of this lady, even if she is my enemy.”

“Aww,” said Medusa appreciatively.

Stan wondered which tree he should bash his head against. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, there are not actually any Gregory or the Mole cards in South Park Phone Destroyer. But there should be! Just imagine the shovel battles the Mole could have with Nelly. Anyway, anyone can feel free to write the tragic Gregory/Mole space opera summarized here.


	10. The Coon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Coon and Princess Kenny's scheming is rudely interrupted. 
> 
> (Had to delete and re-upload this chapter. Doesn't seem to be showing up in the SP Words page, so hopefully folks can see it.)

**The Coon ( & Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Smuggler Ike & Gizmo Ike)**

Cartman hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Princess Kenny’s proposition. It was enticing: a kingdom of his own with a beautiful queen by his side. But it also meant, in all likelihood, leaving South Park forever, and with it, his mother. True, there was a Liane Cartman in Kupa Keep, but she wasn’t his Liane Cartman, and the sorceress Liane probably wouldn’t take kindly to her son being deposed. Besides, he hardly knew anything about Kupa Keep. It might be a real shithole. All he knew so far was that it had: 1) chickens, 2) dragons, and 3) an ongoing feud with several powerful groups of elves.

So he had planned, in the morning, to tell Princess Kenny that he couldn’t do it. But of course, in the morning, her eyes were so violet and hopeful, her hair so golden and promising. He could at least, he figured, try to better suss out what he would be walking into.

So as they traveled onward, he and the princess fell back behind the group, whispering to each other. Fortunately, the Ikes were preoccupied with running ahead up the hill they were climbing, then racing back down, finding dandelions and interesting rocks to collect.

“What can you tell me about the elves, the ones Kyle leads?” he asked.

“The Drow Elves? They’re our enemies, and have been for generations.”

“And they’re also rivals of the elves with the Bebe warrior?”

“Yes, the Blood Elves, who are far more dangerous.”

“So you and the Drow Elves have a few common enemies, including the biggest enemy: the Grand Wizard.”

Princess Kenny thought that over. “You think we should go to them, asking for help with overthrowing our king?”

Cartman nodded. “I think you should do that whether I am able to come with you or not.”

“Why would they help us? They hate humans.”

“But if they assist you and you win, they now have an ally that the Blood Elves don’t.”

Princess Kenny frowned. “King Bradley is trying to unite the elf tribes.”

“Bradley!” called out Gizmo excitedly up ahead. “Yay, Bradley!”

 _Damn that kid’s giant ears_ , Cartman thought.

Wendy looked back at the two with a smug, appraising look, then asked Gizmo to go find some more dandelions. At least this Wendy was a decent wingman.

“For all I know,” Princess Kenny continued, “he’s already succeeded while we’ve been trapped here. If that happens, they’ll have no reason to do anything we say. They could take our whole kingdom.”

“But not without a war, right? And that means losses on both sides. If you get back and Brad’s created the United Elven Emirates, then you go to him and say, ‘You hate the Grand Wizard. We hate the Grand Wizard. Give us a few fighters to back us up in this one coup, and there will be peace between our kingdoms.' Give up some land if you need to, maybe throw in a few chickens, sign a treaty, voila.”

“No war? The Blood Elves won’t like that,” said Princess Kenny wryly.

“Then let them be the odd ones out against Kupa Keep, the Drow, and Bradley.”

Princess Kenny sighed. “Maybe. But there are also the dwarves to consider. They’re our allies against the elves, and the Drow hate them, too.”

“Ugh. I can’t believe Kyle the Bigot Elf is causing so many problems,” Cartman said. “I wish I could talk to him, face to face, and see if there’s anything of the Kyle I know in him. Kyle and I give each other so much shit, but when we do team up, there’s nothing we can’t do. We can outsmart ICE, we can cure AIDS, we can deal with an unwanted plus-one at Clyde’s birthday party—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Princess Kenny said.

“I’m just saying, if I’m able to work with Drow Elf Kyle the way I’m sometimes able to work with the Kyle back home—”

“Does that mean you’re considering it?” the princess asked, smiling.

“Of course I’m considering it; how could I not? I just haven’t decided yet. I’d be giving up all of my life back in South Park.”

He pictured his mom crying alone in his old bedroom, Clyde Frog in her arms, wondering where her son had disappeared to. She’d been nearly inconsolable when he (and Kenny) had moved out at age twenty into the Freedom Pals Headquarters: a derelict apartment building in the previously glamorous SoDaSoPa.

“I know,” Princess Kenny said, her eyes downcast. “I’m asking a lot of you. I wonder, though. If this Professor Chaos can bring us all here, surely there’s a way for us to travel between the worlds, right?”

“Maybe,” said Cartman, perking up a little. That would certainly sweeten the deal. He and then-Queen Kenny could go to South Park to have dinner with his mom, and he could have the guys over to be jealous of his castle. He’d have a bigger house than even Token’s parents!

“Why are you smirking?” Princess Kenny asked playfully, doing so herself.

“I was just thinking how cool it would be to have a castle to show off, assuming we really could go between the worlds,” he said. “We would probably get stuck hosting everything, but that’s the trade-off of having a castle. You wouldn’t mind, would you? If we had everyone over for Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

“I don’t know what those are, but I would love to meet your friends and family. The Kenny in your world could bring his siblings. I could meet Karen!” she exclaimed, looking ecstatic.

Cartman smiled and took her dainty, white-gloved hand in his larger one, not caring if the others saw.

Up ahead, Bebe had stopped in front of a curve in the path as the trail went around the hill. She gestured to the others to be quiet.

“There are others up ahead past this bend,” she said as they gathered around her. “I can’t tell how many.”

They got in formation, with Cartman at the front, Princess Kenny behind him, and Wendy and Bebe bringing up the rear and ready to fire.

“You stay back,” Wendy said to the Ikes. “Stay here until we call for you.”

Then they marched cautiously forward.

As he came around the bend, the Coon had half a second to take in the four soldiers—two knights with swords and shields, two squires with maces—in front of them before a bolt of lightning struck him in the right shoulder. He was tossed back immediately, thrown to the ground, all senses blank for an almost blissful moment.

Then there was chaos. Cartman laid on his side unable to move, half his body numb, the other half tingling, as the soldiers charged forward. Wendy and Bebe began firing. To his horror, Ike and Gizmo darted past him into the fray, “We help!”

 _I have to get up, I have to get up,_ Cartman told himself, trying to make his frazzled nerves obey his commands. He lurched to his feet, his legs wobbling like they’d been asleep for hours. He couldn’t move his right arm at all yet.

He tackled the first knight with zero finesse, grappling with one arm as well as he could. He felt the sword slice awkwardly at his back, the soldier unable to get a good angle. A cry from Princess Kenny drew his attention, but to his relief, he saw she was using her trick.

He paid for the distraction, though, as one of the squires swung his mace into Cartman’s side. He grunted, but finally managed to get his working left arm into a position where he could claw at the knight’s neck. A few swipes of his nails and an arrow from Wendy felled the swordsman, and Cartman shoved his body onto the squire, knocking him over. He looked up to locate the other squire, spotting him just in time to witness a mace crashing down onto Gizmo.

“No!” he screamed as the tiny, furry body was crushed.

He leapt to his feet and charged at the attacker, but was stopped when he had to dodge a swing from the sword of the other knight. Princess Kenny’s trick hadn’t been enough to stop him, and he was back at full power.

As Cartman turned to fight him, he thought the bolt of lightning (where had that come from?) had scrambled his brain. Because he was seeing three more identical Gizmos, all rushing to his aid, along with Ike.

“He can copy himself!” Bebe yelled in explanation.

Cartman launched himself at the knight’s sword arm, determined to disarm him before the Ikes reached them. The fighter was too fast, though, and he felt the weapon puncture his side.

“Eric!” Princess Kenny screamed, her cry echoed by Ike and the Gizmos, who swarmed the knight as Cartman yanked himself away from the sword.

Meanwhile, the two squires had descended on the women, and there was nothing Cartman could do about it until he defeated the knight. He lunged at the man, grasping his sword arm in his left hand, digging his claws into the knight’s wrist. The knight cried out and focused his fury on Ike, kicking the boy so hard he landed several feet away and lay still. Fueled by little more than rage, Cartman tackled the soldier.

As he grappled with the knight, he tried to tell himself the weakness he felt was the result of his injuries, but what he had suspected and suppressed last time he had left the Freedom Pals was becoming all too apparent: he was stronger in close proximity to them. Alone, he was still far stronger than an average man, but whatever weirdo-South-Park-alien-disaster science had given him and his friends their powers meant that when he was with them, his abilities were boosted. _If I survive, I am never telling them this. This secret goes to my grave._ _Which might be right here._

The Coon was larger than the knight, but his injuries and disadvantage meant that he was soon pinned. The sword was at this throat when Bebe saved him, running the knight through with his fallen counterpart’s weapon.

“Thanks, Barbara,” he quipped as he struggled to his knees and scanned the battlefield. One squire was dead, and the other was running in retreat. Princess Kenny ran to his side. She was injured. Bebe was injured. Wendy was injured and cradling a motionless Ike while the one surviving Gizmo cried at her feet.

“Ike,” Cartman called.

“He’s alive,” Wendy said breathlessly, stumbling towards them. “But I have to do a healing shot fast.”

She laid the tiny form on the ground next to Cartman.

“Warning,” Bebe suddenly said. “That device is rigged to send another lightning bolt. It will go off in twenty seconds.”

The group followed her augmented gaze to a tall pole further up the road, crackling with energy.

 _No one else would survive the shot I took_ , Cartman realized. _If it hits anyone else here, they’re dead._

“Do the healing shot,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll take out the device and come back.”

“Eric, you’re badly hurt,” Princess Kenny protested.

“So are you. Get healed. Wendy can do me next.”

He had never been fast, but adrenaline pushed him as he raced to the pole. He could hear Wendy fire her healing shots, and he prayed it was enough for Ike. When he reached the device, he slammed into it with his good shoulder. _Damn it, this thing is sturdy._ He shoved again, and heard a crack. _How many seconds has it been? I could definitely use that extra strength from the guys now. Any of the Freedom Pals, really. Even Captain Diabetes._

Then the wind was knocked out of him from a blow from behind. He glanced back and saw that the surviving squire had returned. He didn’t have time for this. He kept shoving his weight against the pole, ignoring the repeated blows from the mace against his ribs. A memory surfaced: him doggedly but ineffectively smacking Kyle in the head with a wiffle bat. The lightning device started to buzz.

_No, no, no._

With one last slam, he felt the pole give. The buzzing halted as the pole fell to the ground. Cartman’s body gave out, all of his strength depleted. The squire was still standing over him, mace raised, about to bash his heavy, spiked weapon into his face.

But then, in a flash of gold, purple, and white, Princess Kenny appeared behind the squire and took him out with her scepter.

“Good timing, Princess,” Cartman murmured as his rescuer shoved the squire’s body aside.

Instead of replying, the princess dropped to her knees and kissed him. It was nothing at all like kissing Kenny in middle school during spin-the-bottle, which had been like kissing a relative at Thanksgiving except in Clyde’s basement and while ten other middle schoolers shrieked. This kiss was magical.

Princess Kenny pulled back far too soon. “Hang on, Eric, Wendy’s coming.”

Cartman turned his head. To his relief, he saw Gizmo and Ike running over, clearly upset, but fine. Bebe was mostly healed as well. Wendy, though…Wendy looked dead on her feet. _She can’t heal herself_ , he remembered.

“Eric!” sobbed Ike, throwing himself unhelpfully on Cartman’s thoroughly battered ribs and soon joined by Gizmo.

“Hey, kids,” groaned Cartman. “Could have warned us about that cloning trick, Giz. You gave me a heart attack.”

“I think I have enough energy for one more shot,” Wendy said, panting.

 _If she doesn’t, I might be dead_ , Cartman realized. He’d never see his friends or home again. He’d never get to have a second kiss with Princess Kenny. Then he again pictured his bereft mother sitting alone in his room, and it was all he could do not to cry out for her. _I want my mom._

“Here we go,” said Wendy, having summoned the arrow. She aimed it at the sword wound in Cartman’s side.

Cartman took a deep breath as the arrow did its work. He doubted one shot would be enough to heal everything, but as long as he would 1) live, and 2) be able to walk, it would be acceptable. That second part was especially important. He’d been knocked unconscious by a poisonous gas once, and when he finally woke up safe at Freedom Pals Headquarters, the gang explained that to get his broad 6’6” frame there, they had to 1) get a pallet and a pallet jack, 2) have Super Craig, Toolshed, Mosquito, and Tupperware work together to move him on to the pallet, and 3) hook up the pallet jack to Doctor Timothy’s wheelchair and have him pull while others pushed. They’d had to take him up the goddamn freight elevator.

Princess Kenny examining the site of his stab wound brought him back. “It’s healed.”

Cartman pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing. He could feel his right arm at last, and it burned. Looking at it, he realized that the lightning bolt had blown most of his sleeve off, leaving his arm bare and revealing burns that looked like a tree’s root system.

“That’s cool,” he remarked, hoping any internal damage from the strike had been healed.

“How do you feel?” Bebe asked.

“Like shit,” he said, taking stock of his aching ribs and various bruises left by the maces. “But like shit that’s going to live.”

“Good,” sighed Wendy before collapsing. Princess Kenny and Bebe caught her before she hit the ground.

“Oh no!” wailed Ike and Gizmo.

“It’s ok,” reported Bebe, lifting the angel in her arms. “She’s alive. She just fainted.”

Cartman gingerly got to his feet, the princess holding his unburned arm. They were all alive, and that was a miracle. But they were also, he realized grimly, sitting ducks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Kid: Ok, you're weak as hell and I have to keep giving you insulin throughout battles. Why should you be on my deck?  
> Captain Diabetes: I can boost the Coon's attack.  
> New Kid: Literally anyone in the Superhero theme can do that.  
> Captain Diabetes: I'm a Common, so I'm cheap to upgrade.  
> New Kid: So are Super Craig and Tupperware.  
> Captain Diabetes: I cost 2 Energy.  
> New Kid: Welcome to the deck!


	11. Mysterion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half the group has a serious discussion while the other half vibes. Then disaster strikes.

**Mysterion ( & Zen Cartman, Witch Doctor Token, Sharpshooter Shelly, Marine Craig & Le Bard Jimmy)**

Mysterion’s group was climbing up a mountain. At the top was Destroyer Castle (at least according to the map), but it felt a long ways off. As had become usual, Kenny was walking in the rear with the monk version of Cartman, who wasn’t built for climbing. But this time, ex-space-marine Craig lingered back with them while Jimmy, Token, and Shelly sang songs of Jimmy’s homeland up front, the witch doctor and sharpshooter helping the bard with the climb. The favorite ballad of the day was about a man who got rid of all his underpants so that gnomes couldn’t steal them while he was sleeping, but then the gnomes stole his penis instead.

Kenny was relieved that the group now knew—and seemed totally unfazed by—his self-resurrection ability, but the incident had brought up bad feelings. The suffocating panic of being trapped in an unending existence, which he usually managed to keep at a simmer on a back burner, was a raging boil once again. He tried to calm himself with the monk’s promise that he didn’t necessarily know his own destiny, but he couldn’t make himself believe that. And he now knew that if he died here, he was brought back here. What if he ended up trapped in this world Professor Chaos had transported him to for eternity?

“So, Mysterion,” Craig said as they struggled up a narrow trail, “in your world, how did Tweek and I meet?”

Kenny was glad to have something to distract him from his anxious, morbid thoughts, though he couldn’t completely shake the gloom. “They’re childhood sweethearts. We’re all from the same small town and grew up together.”

“And when did they get married?”

“After high school.”

“What’s that?”

“The school you go to when you’re teenagers.” Tweek and Craig—mostly Craig—had refused to let the sudden manifestation of superpowers in themselves and a good portion of their friends delay their early autumn wedding. The event had been beautiful, even though Tweek had accidentally blown away the dining tent in a tornado, Clyde kept attracting mosquitos, and Stripe pooped during his gig as ringbearer. “Their fifth anniversary is coming up," Kenny added.

Craig shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve only known Tweek for three years. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have grown up together. What about in your world, Eric? Aren’t I a Catholic priest there?”

“Yes, Craig is a priest, and Tweek is an imp, a type of demon,” said the monk. “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

“So, it’s a forbidden love affair?” Craig asked. “Like when Prince Gregory of Yardalia ran off with that anti-monarchist revolutionary? Sorry, that’s an example from my world. Probably means nothing to you.”

“Our Craig and Tweek might be star-crossed lovers someday,” Eric said with a wry smile. “They’re not there yet. For now, the imp conceals his feelings by claiming he is just trying to steal Pastor Craig’s soul. Pastor Craig, meanwhile, hides behind homophobia, as nothing frightens us more than our truest self. My colleagues have a betting pool on what the outcome of the pair’s tension will be, and I’m sure the other side has one as well.”

“A demon and a priest,” Kenny mused. “Classic.”

“What about you, Mysterion?” Craig asked. “Anyone special in your life? Kenny-Tron doesn’t seem interested in romance, but a lot of cyborgs aren’t.”

Kenny paused before answering, unsure how much of himself he wanted to share. “I’m not interested either. I mean, I’m not asexual. Far from it. I had a pretty wild time as a teen.” _How many boobs and dicks did I make contact with in high school? Can anyone even count that high?_

“Really? You seem kind of…” Craig trailed off.

“Kind of what?” Kenny challenged.

“Uptight? Reserved?”

_A CRAIG is calling me reserved?_ Kenny thought angrily. His annoyance must have shown on his face, because Craig hastened to explain.

“I mean, you have this whole ‘Mysterion’ persona and you keep spouting off about justice and shadows and stuff. That’s not really ‘life of the party’ material.”

Kenny grit his teeth in frustration. “Well, that’s what happens when you’re eighteen and think you’re going to have a normal life of working in fast food and maybe taking a few shitty community college classes and then you find out: surprise! You have fucking superpowers and therefore a huge fucking responsibility to the world and by the way, you’re maybe immortal and are eventually going to watch all your loved ones die.”

Craig stared at him blankly. Eric put a hand on his shoulder, but Kenny shrugged it off. He knew he was ranting, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“And I know you said that might not be my fucking ‘destiny,’ whatever that means,” Kenny continued, “but I have to plan like it is. It’s bad enough that I have to prepare myself for losing all the loved ones I already have to old fucking age, but to add even more by falling in love? Why the hell would I do that?”

His eyes burned, which made him furious. He wasn’t going to cry about this in front of people he hardly knew. He had cried so much in private already.

“That sounds horrible,” Craig agreed. 

“It is fucking horrible!” Kenny snapped. “My sister, my best friends…everyone.” His voice cracked and he felt a betraying tear slide down his cheek, which he furiously wiped away. He had taken off his cowl earlier in the hike, and he longed for his old orange hoodie, wishing he could pull the strings and hide his face. “Do you know what it’s like, trying to enjoy being with the people you love and knowing—actually knowing—you’ll outlive them all? Possibly by fucking millennia?”

“No, I cannot imagine that,” Craig said.

“Well, it fucking sucks!” Kenny shouted, causing Token, Jimmy, and Shelly to stop and turn around.

The monk opened his arms and Kenny hesitated a few seconds before accepting, burying his face against the orange sash. He tried to quiet his tears while the others looked on, the three who were up ahead completely confused by the drama unfolding below, as they had been too immersed in Jimmy’s bawdy song to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“I’m going to give you two suggestions to meditate on,” Eric whispered into Kenny’s messy blond hair. “The first is that while I understand and honor your grief, I would urge you away from mourning your loved ones prematurely. You are complete with or without a romantic partner, but please enjoy the platonic and familial love you have now.”

Kenny sniffled, feeling like all the strife he had built up since the summer after high school was being released.

“Also,” Eric continued, “give yourself a break. You feel like you must take the powers you’ve been given and become an unceasing soldier for justice, but you are more than Mysterion. You are Kenny, and Kenny is important too. Balance in all things.”

Kenny sobbed against the monk’s shoulder. He didn’t know what it was about the man, but he radiated peace, and Kenny felt safe and cherished in his embrace.

“Um…everyth-th-thing ok down there?” Jimmy asked.

“Give them a moment,” Craig replied. 

Once Kenny had collected himself, the group continued upwards. He was mortified, but no one gave him a hard time about his breakdown.

“You know,” Token said, “Eric and I know quite a few immortals. Maybe when we’ve found out how to get out of here, we’ll learn how to travel to each other’s worlds as well. You could talk with them. Warning: Poseidon will probably hit on you. So might your counterpart, Hermes.”

“Good to know,” Kenny said with a chuckle. _It’s like a game of Who’d You Rather: an old sea-man or yourself? I am pretty good looking._

“If we can travel between the wo-worlds, I’d like to sneak this monk into Kupa Keep in disguise,” said Jimmy. “If you g-grow your hair out and put on a wizard robe, we might have a p-peaceful kingdom at last.”

Before Kenny could ask him to elaborate, there was a whistling noise, and Shelly and Token cried out. Both had been struck with arrows: Shelly in the arm, and Token in the chest.

“We’re under attack!” Kenny cried. Despite the gravity of the situation, his brain immediately provided, _It’s over, Anakin, they have the high ground!_

Craig, well armored, ran forward, aiming his poison rifle uphill, in the direction the arrows had come from.

The bushes ahead and to their right rustled, and two white people dressed as Indians with hatchets jumped out, charging. Craig sprayed them with poison while more arrows flew down, some harmlessly hitting Craig’s armor while others struck Eric, who had lumbered to the front of the group. Then five more fighters with hatchets came running down towards them while another, larger wave of arrows let loose.

Kenny shouted as two arrows hit his torso. Jimmy played the deadly note on his lute, Craig kept spraying his poison, Token ripped the arrow from his own chest and started tackling those with hatchets, and Shelly took shots with her good arm, but it was clear they were outnumbered.

“I’ll distract them,” Eric said. “You all have to run.”

“We can’t leave you, good monk,” said Token.

“You must, and you know it, dear friend,” said Eric.

“No!” cried Kenny, coughing as he threw a blue-eyed blond man in a headdress into a tree. He was struggling to breathe, and knew death was once again coming for him. He struggled over to the monk’s side and grasped his hand. “I won’t leave you, Cartman. I won’t let you sacrifice yourself.”

The bald monk smiled fondly at him. “Kenny McCormick, perhaps our paths will cross again. Namaste.”

Then Eric picked him up and handed him to Craig, who threw the protesting but rapidly dying Kenny over his shoulder and ran. As the world faded to black once again, Kenny could hear the monk start to chant.


	12. Toolshed & Human Kite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Toolshed's group have an easier time than Mysterion's in getting up Destroyer Mountain? And what surprise message does Human Kite's group receive?

**Toolshed ( & Poseidon Stan, Medusa Bebe, Kyle of the Drow Elves, Ice Sniper Wendy & Sheriff Cartman)**

As his group traveled, climbing up a mountain, Stan kept noticing Wendy staring at him. He hoped it wasn’t because she was thinking about his awkward confession the night before, but he was sure it was. She was probably grossed out by the idea that in another world, she had dated a guy she only thought of as a sexless cyborg friend.

 _Or maybe she’s staring because she thinks I’m hot, and she’s now viewing me as an option_ , he thought, trying to be optimistic. _Even though the others think I’m not as hot as Bebe._

He knew he was generally considered attractive. He had a nice face, and even before the superpowers, he had been fit thanks to sports. He smirked, remembering the day Trent Boyett had returned to South Park.

One morning during their senior year, Stan and Cartman had been in front of the school waiting for Kenny and Kyle, who had to drop off their younger siblings. Suddenly, Butters had come running, panic writ large across his earnest features.

“Fellas! Did you hear? Trent Boyett turned eighteen and has been released! And he’s on his way here!”

They didn’t even have a moment to freak out and consider stealing Liane’s taser again before a voice from their past demanded, “All right, where are Marsh, Broflovski, Cartman, and McCormick? There’s no avoiding the horrors I’m about to inflict on them and anyone who stands in my way. After fourteen long years, vengeance will be mine at last!"

Everyone had looked up to see Trent Boyett: legal adult, hardened ex-con, wearer of even more tattoos, and furious.

“Stan and Cartman are right there,” Craig had reported.

Butters yelped and cowered behind them as Trent turned to look at two of the small cabal who had done him wrong.

Stan, also eighteen, was wearing a letterman jacket over a tight v-neck t-shirt he knew showed off his pecs. Over the past year he had started looking like a _Riverdale_ character, leading Kyle to jeer, “He’s in _high school_ ,” to more than one hungry-eyed adult. Cartman, still seventeen, was not yet at his final height of 6’6”, but well on his way. Stan was not nearly as tall as Cartman, but he was jacked. Cartman wasn't as jacked as Stan, but he was _bigger_ than Stan. If either one of them fought Trent alone, the odds would probably be 50/50. But they were together.

Trent Boyett had stared at the pair for a few moments, then promptly turned around and left town forever.

While falling in step beside Wendy, who watched him from the corner of her eye, Stan tried to channel the confidence he had felt when watching Trent’s retreating back.

“Hey,” he began, “I hope I didn’t freak you out last night.”

“It’s ok,” she said. “It must be weird for you, too, seeing someone who looks like your ex.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed. “But hey, as far as I know, Gregory is still alive in my world, so, if you’re ever looking for a second chance with the guy…”

Wendy laughed, and the sound made Stan beam.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Sheriff Cartman hissed from further up the trail. “Shh! Nature boy thinks he heard something.” 

Kyle was standing at the head of the group, his eyes closed as he focused. “I did hear something. Something heavy and evil—much like the Grand Wizard. But metal.”

“Metal?” asked Wendy. “That could be robots or cyborgs.”

The group cautiously made their way up the trail, weapons drawn.

Laser fire suddenly rained down on them, but fortunately, Kyle cast his shielding spell just in time.

 _Ok, laser guns again. We can do this_ , Stan told himself as he charged forward, drill at the ready. Soon the gunners came into view, their visors giving them a disconcertingly anonymous look. _Only three. We can take them._

Wendy fired from behind him, her rifle freezing one in place. _Make that two._

But then, from between the gunners charged three beings the likes of which Stan had never seen before. They looked human at first, but they were huge, with strange faces that resembled gas masks and flexible metal arms.

“Titans!” Wendy cried out.

“What?” Cartman asked.

“Titans! They can freeze us, just like my rifle. And they’re super strong.”

Cartman fired his pistol at them, but the bullets bounced off their armor. “Oh, shit.”

Likewise, Bebe’s arrows and Kyle’s weapon did little damage.

“I think we should retreat,” said Wendy.

“We can’t give up no—” Stan broke off as three more fighters, each wearing a glowing red eyepatch, charged forward.

“I can’t keep up the protection spell,” cried Kyle. “My lifeforce weakens.”

“Retreat! Retreat!” called Cartman.

The group turned back down the trail and started running, all of them firing their weapons behind them to discourage followers. Stan found himself keeping pace beside Wendy, determined to keep her safe, even though she was really the one covering him. He didn’t have any long-range weapons, but if anything jumped out at them, he’d make sure they never got to Wendy, he told himself.

“Help!” Kyle’s voice cried.

Hearing his best friend’s voice in anguish was like a knife to his heart, and Stan looked back. The elf had tripped, and was laying sprawled on the ground in a tangle of red robes. One of the Titans was advancing on him.

“Leave him alone!” Stan cried.

He ran uphill to Kyle’s side, but was a moment too late. The Titan froze Kyle in place, the elf’s face a pale mask of terror.

“Watch out, Stan!” Wendy’s voice called.

Then she fired, and it was the cyborg’s turn to freeze. Stan thrust his drill into the Titan’s chest cavity, then snatched up Kyle—cold as ice and stiff as a statue—and ran.

Running downhill with a full-grown frozen elf in your arms turned out to be no picnic. Kyle was heavy ( _At least it wasn’t Cartman_ , Stan thought), and Stan was constantly worried he was going to lose his balance and topple down the mountain. He managed to keep his grip as the group veered off-trail so they wouldn’t be followed. Eventually, they stopped in a small grove, out of breath. Stan set down the frozen Kyle, his arms burning with the effort.

“What do we do?” he asked.

“Just give him a moment,” Wendy said. “If these Titans are anything like the ones back home, it’ll wear off soon.”

Sure enough, the bluish form regained its color, and Kyle revived with a coughing fit.

“You saved me,” Kyle said when he recovered, his voice full of wonder.

“Of course,” Stan said replied. “That’s what teams do for each other. Even when they’re not all the same species.” He turned to Wendy. “Thanks for freezing that Titan, by the way. Kyle and I might have both been goners without you.”

“No problem,” Wendy said. “You’re right. It’s what teams do.”

She was smiling again, and that felt like a win despite the retreat. It also felt like a win that he managed to turn away and lean over a bush before throwing up.

**Human Kite ( & Calamity Heidi, Friar Jimmy, Youth Pastor Craig, War Boy Tweek & Program Stan)**

The sun had been setting by the time Friar Jimmy had gotten Pastor Craig’s leg in working order, so the group had decided to camp for the night. Now it was late morning, and they were finally nearing the river when Program Stan stopped.

“Bebe is within communication range,” he announced.

Tweek’s face lit up. “Bebe? She’s nearby?”

“The Bebe from your world?” Heidi asked Tweek and Program Stan as the others gathered around.

Tweek nodded. “Even when other networks aren't available, all of the cyborgs in our group can communicate in a five-mile radius from each other.” 

“She is five miles southwest of us,” Program Stan reported. “Five others are with her.”

“Who?” Pastor Craig demanded.

Program Stan paused for a moment, silently communicating with the other cyborg, then replied, “Gizmo, Ike, Kenny, Wendy, and Eric. Wendy and Eric have serious injuries and require assistance.”

“Which Eric?” Kyle and Heidi both snapped, while Craig, Jimmy, and Tweek likewise demanded to know which Wendy.

Program Stan paused again, then clarified, “The Wendy who is an angel and the Eric who dresses like an animal called a racoon.”

Heidi released a sigh that sounded like a mix of relief that her husband wasn’t hurt and disappointment that he wasn’t there, while Kyle experienced the inverse of those emotions: glad that at least one of his friends was confirmed to be nearby, but alarmed that he was reported injured. He knew he’d have to be prepared for anything. Objectively assessing damage was always a problem with the Coon, because in many ways Cartman remained the dramatic crybaby he’d been as a child, yet he could easily bear attacks that would take out anyone else. Getting him to sit for a flu shot was still an ordeal, yet the chomper that had crushed Craig’s leg would be a minor annoyance to him. Accidentally spill your coffee on Cartman, and he’d act like you doused him with lava. Throw lava on him during battle, and he’d soldier on. Saying he had “serious injuries” could mean he was being a big wuss over something minor, or that he had sustained an assault that was horrifying to onlookers but nothing to him, or that he might actually be at death’s door.

“I have to fly over there,” Kyle said. “I can bring Jimmy to heal them.”

“Yes,” Jimmy agreed, “it would be an honor to assist the angel.”

“We’ll wait here for your communication through the cyborgs,” Heidi said.

Program Stan indicated the direction as best he could, and then Kyle grabbed Jimmy and took off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friar Jimmy and Pastor Craig bless everyone who has read and left comments & kudos. This is getting so much longer than I expected. (What was I expecting with 24 characters from 5 different worlds???)


	13. Human Kite + The Coon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a reunion!

**Human Kite + The Coon ( & Friar Jimmy, Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Princess Kenny, Smuggler Ike & Gizmo Ike)**

“W-w-wow!” the friar exclaimed, his bird clinging to his hair. “So this is what my bird friends and Cupid experience.”

Kyle didn’t respond, too focused on simultaneously flying and not dropping Jimmy. They were heading in the direction Program Stan had told them, soaring over hills and valleys in search of the Coon’s group. Carrying another person was exhausting. The breaks he’d had to take on land to catch his breath and regain his strength frustrated him, because he didn’t know how dire Cartman’s and Angel Wendy’s situations were. But if he got too weak and dropped their healer, he wouldn’t be any help at all.

Finally, Kyle saw a cluster of people in a clearing. He felt a wave a relief when he spotted Cartman’s large form getting to his feet, albeit slowly. If he could stand under his own power, his injuries were probably not life-threatening.

He landed and released Jimmy, then ran to his friend.

“There’s my favorite Jew!” Cartman yelled.

Kyle embraced the taller man while being reasonably mindful of Cartman’s right arm, which was in a sling fashioned from the Coon’s red cape. “Hey, Fatass.”

After some quick, mind-boggling introductions, Friar Jimmy assessed the patients and got started healing. Unlike the angel's fast-acting healing arrows, the friar simply radiated healing energy in a slow but steady process. Wendy, despite internal damage from the maces and several sword wounds, was surprisingly relaxed and giggly upon seeing her friend.

“Friar!” she said, grinning lazily from where she laid in the grass. “Praise the Lord you’re here. You bring any snacks? I’d kill for, like, a million tacos right now.”

Jimmy frowned. “I’m not seeing any head injuries. Maybe she’s just in shock.”

“So…” Cartman, sitting on Jimmy’s other side, began, “she really needed something to take the edge off the pain, and I had these two Tegridy gummi bears.”

“You gave an angel edibles?” Kyle exclaimed.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” Cartman argued. “I couldn’t take them, because I needed to be alert in case there were any more attacks.”

“You could have just given her some normal painkillers from your first aid kit.”

“Yeah, I only had the gummi bears and a single Terrance & Phillip band-aid in there.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cartman!”

“Hey, the gummi bears worked, didn’t they? They kept Better Wendy here relaxed until you flew in with Operation Magic Jimmy Drop. And Stan’s dad is gonna be psyched when we tell him an actual angel partook of his wares.”

Kyle refused to let it go. “Everyone’s supposed to do inventory of their first aid kits once a week at headquarters. I made checklists.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Jesus, you’re turning into your cousin.”

“I know him!” Wendy said.

“You know my cousin?” Kyle asked.

“No, she’s talking about your king,” Cartman said. “You know: Jesus. Close personal friend of hers.”

“He’s a great g-g-guy,” Jimmy opined.

“Besides,” Cartman said, “nothing in a first aid kit was going to save us after that last battle.”

Kyle secretly concurred, but refused to give Cartman the satisfaction of saying so. The group had described the violent struggle, and he was shaken at close they had been to death. The lightning contraption Cartman spoke of, which had left twisting red burns on his right arm and shoulder, especially worried him. He believed Cartman when he said he was the only fighter he knew who would survive a hit from it. Were there more of those devices throughout this world? Had Professor Chaos put them there? He must have. _Fucking Chaos._

“Eric!” called the creature named Gizmo.

Kyle had to admit Gizmo was pretty cute, but it was weird seeing a version of his brother that was kindergarten-age and mashed up with some type of furry animal. Both Gizmo and the other Ike—also about five years old—had run towards him when he approached the group, but then changed their minds and retreated. They seemed to know he was not the Kyle they each separately knew, so they sought refuge behind the cyborg Bebe, watching him suspiciously.

“What, Giz?” Cartman asked.

“I have to pee!”

“Me too!” said Ike.

“I’m getting healed right now. Have Bebe take you.” Cartman said.

“Noooo!” howled Ike. “I want to play bush monster!”

“Bush monster!” cheered Gizmo.

Bebe, Princess Kenny, and Cartman tried to convince the Ikes that Bebe or Princess Kenny could also play bush monster, but this argument only brought whining. Kyle offered himself as a substitute, which resulted in absolute mayhem as two very cute child soldiers sobbed and thrashed and wailed on the ground, making it clear that they wanted nothing to do with “bad Kyle” or “wrong Kyle.” Ultimately, Cartman staggered to his feet again to supervise two children peeing on a bush.

“They’ve got him so whipped,” said a still-stoned Wendy once he and the boys were gone.

“Clearly,” Kyle said, trying to not feel hurt at being rejected by two tiny versions of his teenage brother—for Cartman, no less.

“Don’t worry. They’ll warm up to you,” said Princess Kenny.

Kyle forced himself to look at her and smile appreciatively. It was so weird seeing Kenny, who when not Mysterion wore little besides ancient blue jeans and a stained hoodie, as a beautiful princess in a tiara and spotless gown. To be fair, she also seemed unsettled by him, and Cartman had made him show her his ears to prove he wasn’t an elf. After that, she had been quiet, giving him and Cartman their space, but staring intently.

“I hope so,” Kyle said. “I’m pretty sure this Ike is the Ike the Heidi in our group has been talking about. Apparently, he ran away from home to become a pirate, and they’ve been trying to get him back.”

Heidi and the others were on their way over, eager to be reunited with friends from their worlds. They were setting themselves back by going south, but it seemed more logical than waiting for Cartman and Wendy to be fully healed and then for their group to catch up.

“He’s been talking about being a pirate,” Princess Kenny said. “At first, he thought Wendy was a captain and Eric was a sheriff.”

“That’s him, then,” Kyle said. “Hopefully when Heidi gets here, she can convince him to come home to my counterpart. Assuming we can get home. All of our homes.”

“We have to have faith,” Jimmy said. “Although, I almost wish we had the imp, who can t-t-teleport.”

“Ugh,” said Wendy. “Fucking dark siders. Fucking Hell fans.”

“I’m sorry about Red,” Jimmy said. He explained to the others, “Another angel recently switched sides.”

“My best friend,” Wendy complained. “My best friend and she defects for that thong-wearing horned dickweed.”

“Now, Wendy,” Jimmy scolded, “Satan is—”

“We killed the bush monster!” Ike cried triumphantly as he, Gizmo, and Cartman returned.

“Good job,” said Kyle, trying to get on his sort-of-brothers’ good side.

The two Ikes just looked at him disdainfully and rejoined Bebe.

Cartman started to ease himself back down, but yelped and froze halfway. Kyle and Princess Kenny both jumped up to assist him.

“What hurts?” Princess Kenny asked, placing a hand on his tense back.

“I move the wrong way and it’s like Toolshed’s grinding his drill in my side,” Cartman hissed. “My ribs are all jacked up.”

“Well, let’s have Friar Jimmy unjack them,” Kyle said, taking Cartman’s left arm. “Give me some of your weight, Fatass.”

“Hey!” snapped the princess.

“What?” asked Kyle, guiding Cartman to the ground, where he groaned and lay back to accept the friar’s ministrations.

“I just think that’s rude,” Princess Kenny said. “And he’s not that fat.”

Cartman cackled, then winced and held his ribs again. The princess frowned in sympathy and rubbed his shoulder.

“I’ve put up with him for two decades,” Kyle said. “I can call him whatever I want.”

“It’s fine, Princess,” Cartman said. “Hate is our love language.”

“What’s your world like, Princess Kenny?” Jimmy asked. “I’ve heard about the superhero world, the cowboys/Indians/p-p-pirates world, and the space world, but not yours.”

The princess and Cartman shared a look.

“I’m from the kingdom of Kupa Keep,” she said. “All of you are there, too.”

“You’re a bigot elf, Kyle,” Cartman said. “But it sounds pretty cool. Everyone does magic, and there’s tons of chickens.”

“Chickens!” said Jimmy appreciatively. “That’s nice.” 

“Do I want to know about the bigot elf part?” Kyle asked.

“You hate humans and dwarves,” said Cartman, making eye contact with the princess again, like they were silently negotiating how much information to share. “We can talk about it later.”

Now Kyle was suspicious, but he didn’t push the matter. “Ok,” he said, one eyebrow raised. Whatever Cartman and the pretty princess version of Kenny were being cagey about, he'd find out sooner or later.


	14. Mysterion + Toolshed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two groups meet and finally reach the castle.

**Mysterion + Toolshed ( & ~~Zen Cartman~~ , Witch Doctor Token, Sharpshooter Shelly, Marine Craig, Le Bard Jimmy, Poseidon Stan, Medusa Bebe, Kyle of the Drow Elves, Ice Sniper Wendy & Sheriff Cartman YES I HAVE A CHART FOR THIS)**

Mysterion trudged along with his group. The monk was dead. Although he had only known him a few days, the loss gutted Kenny. The unexpectedly calm, sage, selfless version of Cartman had felt like a kindred spirit and priceless mentor, and now he was gone. Just like everyone would eventually be gone from Kenny’s existence.

 _No, stop thinking like that_ , he told himself. _Monk Cartman didn’t want you to cut yourself off from friends and family by grieving them prematurely. You should honor his memory by following his advice_.

He did, however, let himself grieve the monk, while still being aware that he wasn’t the main mourner in their group, and that they had to be alert for more dangers. Token, who had come from the same world as the deceased, was quiet and somber, walking between Shelly and Jimmy. The witch doctor had managed to heal himself by taking the life force of one of their attackers, and Mysterion had patched up the arrow wound to Shelly’s arm with his first aid kit, which he kept fully stocked as per the Human Kite’s checklist. With two of their best fighters out of commission due to grief and injury, Kenny felt more responsibility than ever to get the group to safety.

“What are we even looking for?” Craig, the space marine, asked him as they wandered through the trees.

“A safer way up the mountain,” Mysterion said. “Our map only gives us a partial view of it, but there might be another way. I swear, when I see Professor Chaos again, I will stop at nothing to bring him to justice.”

“It’s hard to imagine the Butters I know doing something like this,” said Craig. “I guess our group got lucky. He’s a gentle soul.”

“Ours used to be,” Kenny said wistfully.

It was painful to remember the Butters that had existed before Chaos, before their superpowers manifested. He’d been such a sweet, guileless kid, even through their teens. When Kenny had moved in with the Cartmans, Butters had helped him set up his new bedroom in what had been Liane’s office. Butters hung up Kenny’s posters of hot male and female NASCAR drivers and hot male and female wrestlers with all the care as if he had been installing an exhibition in the Denver Art Museum. He’d also gotten Kenny a wall calendar with photos of cute baby animals, to cheer him up. That had been less than a year away from him becoming Professor Chaos. 

For the initial year or so of being superheroes, their goal had been to get Butters back. But then there was the first chomper incident, where Kenny’s leg had been crushed. Even more than the blinding agony his leg had been in, what Kenny remembered from that night was the devastating certainty that Butters was gone for good. Professor Chaos had purposefully designed the chomper to cause great injury and pain—to cause _them_ great injury and pain.

Cartman never really seemed to get it, still teaming up with Chaos occasionally for stupid crap like raiding an energy drink company or stealing a bunch of rare comics, justifying it with, “Guys, it’s _Butters_!” And now “Butters” had killed by proxy another version of Cartman. Kenny hoped the Coon was ok, even if he was an idiot.

“Who’s there? Identify yourself!” a voice called out from up ahead.

 _Speak of the devil!_ Kenny knew that voice well. “Coon?”

“Mysterion?” a different familiar voice responded.

“Toolshed?”

The next thing Kenny knew, Stan was running to him with outstretched arms, shouting triumphantly.

“Stan!” Kenny cried, dropping the superhero names as they embraced. “You’re ok!”

Other reunions surrounded them. Shelly affectionately greeted a Cartman dressed like a sheriff with, “What are you doing here, you turd?” Craig hurried over to an unfamiliar Wendy. And then there was the person Token went to. He looked like Stan, but with gray hair and a beard. Kenny did a double-take.

“Who’s that silver fox version you?”

Stan grimaced. “Don’t call him that. You’re not going to believe this, but he’s Poseidon, god of the seas.”

“Poseidon? Token told us about him. Said he’s horny.”

“Yeah. It’s embarrassing.”

“Why? He’s kind of daddy.”

“Oh my God, do not say that, ever again,” Stan said. “I can’t believe we just found each other and you’re already checking out my alternate universe self.”

Kenny laughed. “Why? It’s not you.” Then he felt a stab of guilt as he saw Poseidon’s face turn to grief. He knew what Token was telling him. He’d been so overjoyed to find one of his friends that he’d managed to forget their recent tragedy, but it came roaring back. Tears pricked his eyes, and he hugged Stan again.

“Whoa, whoa. You ok?” Stan asked, wrapping his arms comfortingly around his friend.

Kenny nodded against his shoulder. “We lost someone.”

Stan gave him a squeeze. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Kenny mumbled. “We need to find Cartman and Kyle and get home, and make sure everyone else gets home too.”

“We will,” Stan promised.

“Hey!” Token yelled suddenly, looking past Poseidon to where Medusa and Kyle of the Drow Elves were loitering nervously in the background. “This monster is here?”

“And this v-v-villain as well,” added Jimmy, pointing to Kyle.

“Calm your tits, Shirtless Token and Guitar Jimmy,” the sheriff said. “They’re both cool.”

“It’s a l-lute, and they’re not cool,” Jimmy insisted. “Kyle literally wants to kill humans.”

“So? You humans want to kill elves!” Kyle argued.

“Guys,” Stan said, “stop it. Kyle and Medusa have managed to co-exist with humans and gods alike these past few days. I have every confidence in both of them.”

“And I have confidence in Stan,” Kenny said. “If he trusts them, so do I.”

Poseidon put a hand on Token’s shoulder. “Eric would have wanted us to see the good in our foe. Give Medusa a chance, as an honor to his memory.”

Medusa was taken aback. “The monk…he’s dead?”

Token nodded sadly. “Yes. He sacrificed himself to save us. We were attacked trying to climb the mountain.”

“I’m so sorry,” Medusa said. “Obviously, we were on opposite sides, but everyone knows how good he was. Can’t your pope friend resurrect him?”

Token sighed. “Maybe, if he were here. I’m sure he’d relish being asked to resurrect someone other than ManBearPig.”

“Who the hell wants to resurrect ManBearPig?” Stan asked.

“Assholes,” Token replied, “that’s who. But even so, Eric always said he wouldn’t want to be resurrected. He wanted the universe to take its course.”

“Classic Eric,” said Poseidon. “He was so wise.”

“Figures,” said Sheriff Cartman.

**Toolshed’s POV**

The two groups shared details of their most recent battles and compared their maps. Stan’s group had been approaching the castle from the northwest, Kenny’s from the northeast.

“Maybe Cartman and Kyle are in groups coming from the south,” Kenny mused.

“And maybe those are also groups of six, or at least were originally,” Shelly said.

“Wendy, what if Tweek is here?” Craig asked. “He’ll be so scared.”

“Tweek is always scared,” Wendy pointed out.

“I’m not a fan of you back where I come from,” Sheriff Cartman drawled, nodding to Craig, “although you’re probably the least offensive of the fake Indians. But anyway, I understand your worry. I hope my wife hasn’t been sucked into this hellscape.”

Kenny flashed Stan a panicked-yet-intrigued look, clearly communicating, “Oh my God. Don’t tell me. It can’t be.” Stan groaned internally at having to confirm his friend’s fears, but his sort-of sister beat him to it.

“Don’t worry,” Shelly said. “Heidi can handle herself.”

Kenny locked eyes with Stan again, his eyebrows high. Stan sympathized with his curiosity, but subtly shook his head. If they got Cartman talking about Heidi, they’d be here all day. Stan and the others had already had to listen to a play-by-play of the couple’s wedding day, their wedding vows, a peyote-fueled sex vacation, and the time Heidi had saved him from a bar full of bandits with only two broken bottles.

Medusa artfully moved the conversation away from those potential subjects. “It looks like we’ll have to decide which enemy gang we want to take on: the gunners and cyborgs, or the fake Indians who killed the monk.”

“Why don’t we go in the middle and avoid them both?” Poseidon suggested.

“But then there’s a better chance that both of them might converge on us. We’d be done for,” Kenny said, trying to focus on the matter at hand and not the fact that Cartman and Heidi were married in some yee-haw wild west land.

After much discussion, they decided to take the path Stan’s group had retreated from. The cyborgs and gunners were strong, but at least they now had almost double the manpower.

“Well, here’s Destroyer Castle,” said Stan.

The battle had indeed been much easier with eleven instead of six. Kenny had died once, and a few fighters had minor injuries, but they were generally ok. Once they reached the top of the mountain, they were finally faced with the location they had been told to find. The imposing castle was made of gray stone and had four turrets.

“Now what?” Cartman asked, huffing from the uphill hike.

“I guess we go in,” Stan said.

They tentatively walked through an arched entrance, waiting for disaster to strike at any moment. But nothing happened, even when they reached the empty courtyard.

“Hello?” called Kyle. “Is anyone here?”

Finally, a screen appeared before them, just like the one Professor Chaos had made his previous appearance on. The supervillain was there again, and Shelly angrily took a shot at it with her good arm. The bullet went harmlessly through the holograph.

“Congratulations to our first two teams for advancing to Battle Day,” Chaos said. “Wait here for the remaining teams to arrive.” Chaos then unleashed a peal of evil laughter as the screen faded away. 

“Fuck you!” Kenny screamed at the empty air. “Fuck you, Chaos! How long are you going to keep us here?”

“Yeah, screw this evil version of Butters,” Craig said. “He sucks.”

“Remember, the rest of the Freedom Pals are back home,” Stan told Kenny, “no doubt doing everything they can to get us back.”

“Look,” Craig said, “we can assume the remaining teams are two teams, each with one of your friends, correct?”

“Probably,” Stan said.

“And they’re most likely coming from the southwest and southeast,” Craig continued.

“He’s right,” Cartman said. “Instead of waiting around here, we could go out and find them.”

“Chaos told us to wait here,” Stan said.

“Enough of playing Chaos’s games!” Kenny snapped. “They’re right. Cartman and Kyle—our Cartman and Kyle—might be in just as much danger as we were. Their groups might have had losses too. We can’t just sit here, waiting for them to _maybe_ survive their final battles and make it here.”

“Exactly,” said Craig. “I’m not going stand around knowing that somewhere out there Tweek or our friends might be in need.”

“What are you proposing?” Wendy asked. “That we split in two again, and have one group go southwest, one southeast? We won’t be able to communicate.”

“We could forge a path down the middle,” Cartman said.

“Hey!” Poseidon interjected. “I suggested that last time, and I was shot down.”

“Because it’s too risky,” Stan argued. “Besides, it’s late in the day. How much good are we going to do for them stumbling blind in the dark?”

“Wait!” Medusa cried suddenly.

She ran back through the arched entryway and made a loud hissing sound.

“What is this crazy snake girl doing?” Shelly asked as the group followed.

“I’m summoning my snakes,” Medusa said. “The snakes I turned some of our foes into during our last battle. They will obey me now.”

“…And?” asked Jimmy.

Four snakes slithered out of the grass near the path they had taken to the castle and gathered near Medusa’s feet.

“And,” Medusa said, smiling, “they can act as scouts. We can send them ahead of us to check for danger.”

In the end, they decided to have two groups: one to search for their friends, and one to stay at the castle. As much as Stan had been against leaving in the first place, he didn’t want Mysterion and the others going into danger without him, but Wendy pointed out they should have some strong fighters remain behind. In the end, it was decided that the search team would consist of Medusa and her snakes, Cartman, Craig, Mysterion, Token, and Poseidon. Staying behind would be Toolshed, Wendy, Jimmy, Shelly, and Kyle (who, it turned out, could understand the language of snakes and would be able to translate any messengers Medusa sent back).

The search group loaded up with provisions from the castle’s storeroom, then said their goodbyes with their newly reunited friends and departed, traveling south down the mountain. When they were out of sight, Kyle said he would gather food from the garden for dinner, and Jimmy and Shelly said they would hunt for pigeons or rabbits nearby.

Stan and Wendy, meanwhile, decided to explore the rest of the castle. They walked cautiously at first down the corridors, which were lit by oil lamps. The place was completely empty. There was a kitchen, a ballroom, and bedrooms of all sizes. A large room full of spartan bunks was maybe meant for servants or soldiers. Other rooms had a few narrow beds, indicating a move up in stature. Finally they reached what must have been the private chambers of the castle’s ruler: they included a large, airy bedroom with a canopy bed in blue silk.

“I don’t understand why all this is here,” Wendy said. “Who lives here? The lamps are burning, and there’s food in the storeroom, but no people.”

“And all the opponents we’ve fought have been like minions.” said Stan. “Like we’re in a video game. I don’t know how Chaos did this, if they’re other people he kidnapped and mind-controlled, or if he…made them, somehow.”

“That’s common, in my world,” Wendy said, going to a window. “Both mind-controlling an army and literally making an army.”

Stan joined her at the window, which looked out at the hills below. The sun was low, turning the sky pink and orange. Stan watched her watching the sky, and wanted to tell her she was beautiful. He held back, though, not wanting to make things awkward again, and a little worried he would throw up.

“You’re very handsome,” Wendy said, startling him.

“What?” he said, stomach churning.

She smiled. “I said you’re very handsome. And kind. You’re a good person. You do the right thing.”

“I try,” he said, blushing. “I mean, I try to be a good person. Not that I try to be handsome. Not that I don’t try to be handsome. I mean, I take care of my hair and work out—”

Wendy kissed him, and Stan shut up.

“Look,” she said when she pulled away. “I’ve already told you I don’t do relationships. And you’re from another world. And we’re trapped in some evil villain’s game. And maybe we’ll die tomorrow. Am I being too forward if I suggest we enjoy tonight?”

Stan leaned out the window and vomited, then pulled himself back in, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “No. Not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, play "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye.


	15. Almost Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A threat! More reunions! And a proposition.

**The Coon + Human Kite ( & A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE)**

“FingerBang bang! Bang Bang! I’m gonna FingerBang bang you into my life—”

“How in the lord our God’s name does anyone stand these guys?” Pastor Craig asked as the Coon and Human Kite sang.

Heidi smiled. “I’m just glad to see my boys together again, even if they’re not really my boys.”

The rest of Kyle’s group had arrived, and Wendy and Cartman were fully healed, so the twelve were finally continuing the journey to Destroyer Castle.

They were traveling in style: Princess Kenny had given everyone makeovers. With one sleeve mostly destroyed anyway, Cartman had decided to just go sleeveless, all the better to show off his extremely cool lightning scars and what he called “the gun show.” Kyle’s unruly Jewfro still had its volume, but was now composed of healthy coils. Heidi’s dull, flat, mousey hair had shine and bounce. Tweek’s traditional war boy makeup was fixed. Pastor Craig’s jacket, collar, and button-down looked fresh from the drycleaner’s. Program Stan’s metal shone. Even Friar Jimmy, who insisted that his Franciscan brown robe and wooden cross be untouched, allowed his hair to be styled.

Besides Craig, the group was in good spirits. They looked great, and the reunions buoyed everyone’s spirits. Gizmo was especially excited by the new arrivals: he’d already had Bebe with him, but now he had Tweek and Program Stan as well. He’d made Tweek carry him for a bit, but had since switched to Program Stan, perching happily on the cyborg’s shoulders.

Ike was more recalcitrant. He had cried out excitedly when he saw Heidi, then remembered he didn’t like cowboys. Heidi tried coaxing and begging, but Ike had hidden his face against Cartman’s leg and refused to look at her.

Currently, Ike was sitting on Cartman’s shoulder, learning the phrase “finger bang” from Cartman and Kyle’s song, and repeating it happily.

“Ike, your brother is not going to be happy you learned that,” Heidi said.

“FingerBang!” cried Ike rebelliously. “Bang, bang!”

“You can tell cowboy Kyle that it’s my fault,” non-cowboy Kyle said. He and his friends had definitely gotten the Ike in their world to say worse when he was little.

“No cowboys!” Ike said, scowling. “Only pirates!”

Heidi sighed.

“What’s so great about pirates, Ike?” Cartman asked him.

“Chocolate!” the boy replied.

“That’s how the pirates lured him to their side,” Heidi said. “They intercept a candy bar trade route, so they’re always well stocked.”

Cartman remembered something. “Wait a sec.”

He dug through his utility belt, and there it was: the candy bar. He’d kept it hidden all this time, intending to eat it in secret so he wouldn’t have to share, but between taking care of the Ikes and dalliances with Princess Kenny, he hadn’t found time to. Now he could use it to look magnanimous, which was almost as good.

“Here,” he said, handing it off to the Calamity Jane version of his ex.

“Candy?” Ike asked hopefully, catching a glimpse of the wrapper.

“Ike! Look what I have,” said Heidi, holding the candy bar up. “Wouldn’t you like to have this candy bar and then come home with me to your brother?”

Ike looked conflicted.

“Kyle misses you so much,” Heidi said. “He’s so sad without his brother. And look what the wrapper says. ‘Nougat and caramel.’”

“Caramel!” Ike exclaimed.

Cartman set the boy on the ground and he ran to Heidi’s arms. She lifted him up and kissed his cheek while he gazed in wonder upon his prize.

“Thank you, husband look-alike,” Heidi said with a wry smile.

“No problem, ma’am,” he replied, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat.

Cartman had been worried when Kyle mentioned a Heidi was in his group, but everything had been fine. She was only interested in the sheriff version of him, and they actually seemed happy. That might have made Cartman feel tempted to try things again with the Heidi back home, but he had someone else on his mind.

He turned to Princess Kenny. Her proud smile made the sacrifice of a candy bar—potentially the last one he would ever see, if they ended up trapped forever in this world—almost worth it. He smiled back and fell in step beside her. Kyle was distracted, talking with Angel Wendy, so Cartman slowed his pace a bit, getting himself and Princess Kenny some space.

He knew he’d been neglecting her since Kyle’s arrival, and felt a pang of guilt, which was rare for him. Before Kyle’s arrival, he had told her to keep their plans secret for the time being. Kyle would definitely try to talk him out eloping with a female Kenny and usurping an evil wizard version of himself. _Which is bullshit, because he would definitely do the same for a Princess Stan._

“I’m glad we’ve found one of your friends,” Princess Kenny told him.

“Me too. But don’t tell Kyle I said that,” Cartman replied. “Sorry that no one from your world was in their group.”

“It would be nice to see one of my countrymen,” the princess said wistfully. “We could really use Red or Token, and I’d love to hear one of Jimmy’s songs. Plus, we could talk strategy if I had an ally from home.”

“It’s good to know there are allies. From what you’ve said the Grand Wizard, we couldn’t take him on alone.”

Kenny nodded. “Yes, there’s Jimmy the bard, Butters the paladin, Shieldmaiden Wendy, Stan the Great, Sir Tweek. And those are just the ones at court. He is so hated that I am sure more will turn once they see him challenged. And Wendy and Stan lead armies.”

Cartman shook his head. “With all those people, why you haven’t been able to do it already?”

“Like I said, the Grand Wizard is legendary. And he has his own powerful allies, many of them also wielders of magic. His mother, of course, but also the dark mage Craig, the witch Garrison, and Garrison’s paramour, an executioner. Plus, if the Grand Wizard has the slightest hint something might be amiss, he’ll have some of the dwarves come stay at court. Probably Dougie, who is awful. Am I scaring you off?”

She was, in fact, making him pretty nervous, but he tried to not let that show on his face.

“Nah. With my claws and brute strength, the not-so-grand wizard won’t even know what hit him.”

“I love this new look on you, by the way,” Princess Kenny said, running a hand up his strong, bare arm.

Cartman almost groaned. It was hard enough for the two of them to get any privacy in a group of six. Double that, including a nosy childhood friend? Impossible.

“I’ll figure out a way to tell Kyle soon,” he promised. “I’ll start by telling him we’re looking for a way between the worlds. My friends will want to help.”

Suddenly, there were shouts from up ahead. Cartman and the princess looked up to see the recent arrivals looking on in confusion as Wendy frantically tried to get them to run.

“Eric!” Wendy cried, spotting him. “It’s another one of those lightning contraptions! It goes off in ten seconds!”

Cartman saw the familiar pole in the distance, and Bebe running towards it. It didn’t seem likely she would make it in time.

“Get back, everyone!” he yelled, barreling towards the front of the group. If it hit him, it would suck, but Wendy was at full health and could easily heal him. But if it hit anyone else…

“Relax!” said the priest version of Craig. “I paused it.”

Bebe stopped in her tracks, seeing something the rest couldn’t through her cybernetic eyes. “It’s true. It’s stopped.”

She continued to the pole and began shoving it. Cartman and Program Stan joined her, and they easily disassembled the contraption.

“How did you do that?” Wendy asked Pastor Craig. “I thought you could only stop magic.”

“That thing was powered by a spell,” said Craig nonchalantly.

“Well done, Pastor Craig,” said Jimmy fondly. “See why we keep him around?”

Bebe held up a hand. “Wait,” she said. “Someone is coming.”

The group froze. Had they been foolish to think the latest threat to their lives would be so easily solved? Cartman, Program Stan, and Bebe, already at the front, braced themselves. Heidi clutched Ike closer to her, and even nervous Tweek stepped in front of Gizmo.

“Tweek!” a voice called.

“Heidi!” came another.

“It’s Craig!” Tweek cried, at the same moment Heidi exclaimed, “It’s Eric!”

Around a bend in the mountain road, two figures emerged. One was Craig in blue armor, and the other was Eric Cartman in a wild west costume.

Heidi set down Ike and ran with Tweek to their partners’ arms.

“Craig! Craig, I was so scared I’d never see you again!” Tweek sobbed against the soldier’s neck.

Pastor Craig watched the scene with wide, stunned eyes and a dropped jaw.

Meanwhile, Sheriff Cartman and Heidi made out fervently, occasionally pausing to call each other western-themed endearments like “my courageous little jackrabbit” and “my biggest, bravest bull.”

“Yuck,” said Cartman, watching the copies of himself and his ex devour each other’s faces.

“Now you know how the rest of us felt all those years,” said Kyle.

The remainder of the search party—Medusa, Mysterion, Token, and Poseidon—soon caught up. Their group had been alerted to their friends’ presence near the base of the mountain by one of Medusa’s snake scouts.

Kyle and Cartman were overjoyed to be reunited with Kenny and to learn that Stan was back at the castle.

“So, this is the pretty version of me I’ve heard so much about,” said Mysterion, eyeing his violet-eyed doppelganger.

Princess Kenny blushed. “You’ve heard about me?”

“There’s a Jimmy back at the castle who has a song about you.”

The princess put her hand on Cartman’s arm and beamed up at him. “The bard! He’s the one I told you about.”

“Well, I gotta hear this song,” Cartman said, beaming right on back.

Taking in the two’s adoring expressions, Kenny shot Kyle a “holy fucking shit is this what I think it is?” look, and Kyle responded with an “unfortunately, I am pretty sure it is” look.

A somber mood descended, however, as Angel Wendy, Friar Jimmy, and Pastor Craig learned of the monk’s death.

Nevertheless, the group of eighteen continued on. They weren’t sure what would happen once all of them were gathered at Destroyer Castle, but they held out hope that once they were, they would be one step closer to getting home. It was a long, steep hike, and they knew from Medusa’s snake minions that there were various enemy forces on patrol, but they were buoyed by the new reunions and strengthened by the knowledge that even more of their friends were waiting for them at the castle.

Ike was happily being carried by Sheriff Cartman, and Gizmo was walking between Marine Craig and Tweek, so Cartman got to pee by himself in privacy for the first time in days. He wandered well away from the group, finding refuge behind a large tree.

He was turning back away from the tree, zipping himself up, when something caught his eye. A piece of paper was floating down to the ground, much like their map had at the start of the journey. Cautiously, he picked it up. A message was scrawled:

_Eric, you know I have admired you since childhood. You have been a good friend and a worthy adversary. Obey me in this game, and I can give you what you want._

_-Professor Chaos_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been feeling down because of *gestures at the world* everything, but I hope my fanfic escapism helps you escape a little too. 
> 
> Also, I forgot Princess Kenny's eyes are purple on her card, so I went back and fixed that.


	16. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, buckaroos.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Mysterion fumed. “We’ve been teleported to the Hunger Games by Professor Chaos, and Cartman’s been busy fucking my tiny-titted clone.”

Human Kite sighed. After having easily defeated a squadron of knights and archers, the large group was nearing the castle at the top of the mountain. Mysterion and Human Kite were watching the Coon and Princess Kenny, who were walking up ahead. The pair were keeping a foot apart, clearly trying to not appear overly interested in each other, but failing miserably. Plus, others seemed to know. Angel Wendy glanced over at the two with an approving smile.

“Come on,” Kenny continued. “You must have an opinion on this. You never keep your nose out of Cartman’s relationships.”

“Look,” Kyle said, resigned, “yeah, it’s weird, ok? There’s clearly something going on between them. It didn’t take me long to figure that out. But…”

“But what?” Kenny snapped. “It’s freaky! It’s gross! It’s practically incest!”

“But least she’s not Heidi,” Kyle reasoned. “I’ve been watching them, and it’s nothing like when Cartman’s been with her. They’re relaxed, they’re respectful. Cartman actually seems to be being his best self instead of just pretending to be his best self. For better or worse, it’s not like it can last. She’s from another universe.”

Kenny shook his head. “I don’t care. We have to talk to him.”

He marched over to Cartman, grabbing his far taller friend’s thick arm. “Excuse me, princess,” he told his friend’s companion. _Why does she get purple eyes? Fucking unfair._ “We need to borrow the Coon for a private superhero chat.”

“What’s going on?” Cartman asked as Kenny dragged him over to Kyle.

“Oh, _you’re_ asking what’s going on?” Kenny snapped, as Kyle desperately made eye contact with Cartman to indicate that he did not condone this breakdown. “What’s going on is you fucking a clone of me!”

Cartman stared at him. “We were in the group with two five-year-olds. When do you think we had time for that?”

“Oh, fuck off, you piece of shit! Every time you look at each other it’s obvious you’re thinking of sixty-nining in a field of flowers.”

Cartman continued to stare for several moments, then guffawed. “Welcome back, Kenny! Jesus. You’ve been Mysterion for so long I didn’t even know you were still in there.”

“Shut up. Don’t change the subject.”

“He has a point, Kenny,” Kyle said. “It’s kind of nice to hear you curse up a storm again.”

“Wow, I’m glad my perfectly reasonable disgust with Cartman banging Princess Me is so amusing to you guys. She isn’t even that hot!”

Cartman laughed louder. “First of all, stop insulting her before I backhand your skinny ass, and second of all, aren’t you just insulting yourself?”

“No! If I—as in, the me that’s right here—became a woman, I would have ginormous tits. She’s got like…a b-cup at best. Is she trans? Because if she picked those things—”

“Her boobs are awesome, and I don’t know if she picked them. We haven’t discussed the origin of her tits.”

“What exactly are you mad about, Kenny?” Kyle asked, seeing the conversation was getting wildly off-track.

“It’s just weird, ok?”

“I get it,” Kyle said, “but think of all the different people we’ve met here. Look at those two versions of Bebe.” He pointed towards Robo Bebe and Medusa. “They’re nothing alike. And what about Pastor Craig and the space Marine from your team? They seem like different people because they _are_ different people.”

Kenny sighed. “I guess.”

“Besides,” Kyle added, “once we get back home—”

“I actually wanted to talk to you both about that,” Cartman cut in. “You see, Princess Kenny’s world needs help. Believe it or not, there’s an evil me.”

Kenny and Kyle did not look surprised.

“We need to find a way to go between the worlds,” Cartman continued, “so I can help Princess Kenny kill the Grand Wizard.”

“And then you can bang her,” Kenny added sardonically.

“Hey, if it happens, it happens.”

“We don’t know if going between the realities is even possible,” Kyle said. “We need to focus on getting to our own world first.”

“Look, if Butters could bring everyone here, from all these alternate worlds, then there has to be way—”

“Who knows what Professor Chaos did?” Kenny snapped, interrupting Cartman. “Whatever it was, it’s not like he’s going to tell us.”

Cartman scowled. “How do you know?”

“Because he’s Professor Chaos,” Kenny growled in his Mysterion voice.

“Whatever,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to just give up and abandon Princess Kenny to Evil Me.”

“Regular You is Evil You!” Kenny yelled to Cartman’s retreating back.

Despite the argument, nothing could stop the four friends from gathering together in a euphoric huddle when they were at last completely reunited in front of Destroyer Castle.

“Kyle!” Stan cried, hugging his best friend tight in his arms. “And Cartman! I was worried I’d never see you again.” Then he jerked back in shock as he noticed the scaring covering Cartman’s right arm. “Shit, dude. What happened?”

“A magic lightning machine happened, that’s what,” Cartman said. “It hurt like a bitch. If you see a black box on a pole, call for Pastor Craig. He can pause them. Then knock that shit down. Anyway, glad to have you back. You’re better than the dead-eyed glowing blue Stan from Kyle’s group.”

“The cyborg’s here?” Stan asked. He wasn’t looking forward to the seeing the mutilated, reprogramed version of himself. “Wendy told me about him. The Wendy here, I mean, not the angel. She’s an...ice sniper, I guess. And you’ve met the Greek god version of me?”

“Poseidon?” Kyle said. “Yeah, he’s a character.”

“I hope Kenny didn’t flirt with him too much,” Stan said with a chuckle, elbowing Kenny’s side. “He said Poseidon was ‘daddy.’”

Kenny turned beet red while Cartman’s face went from shocked to delighted.

“Wow, Kenny. How _weird_ of you,” he teased.

“That’s different,” Kenny weakly argued, wanting to die yet again.

“Different than what?” Stan asked, brows knitted in confusion.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Kyle said.

In the courtyard, groups mostly formed by the worlds people were from, with some exceptions. Bard Jimmy and Drow Elf Kyle had done a lot of talking during their stay at Destroyer Castle, and now they were deep in conversation with Princess Kenny and the Coon. What had seemed like a longshot—a coup with an assist from the Drow Elves—was suddenly seeming quite possible.

Angel Wendy and Friar Jimmy healed anyone who needed it, like Shelly, and then rejoined their colleagues and technically-enemy Medusa, who were giving Pastor Craig an unwanted pep talk on sexuality.

“You don’t have to use any labels you don’t want,” Poseidon was saying. “Kids, today are like, ‘I’m pansexual,’ and I’m like, ‘Excuse me, have you even had sex with Pan? Because I have.’”

“I am certain my side would be fine with it if you and the imp rented a cute cabin for the weekend, just to see how things go,” Medusa told Craig, who was both fuming and intrigued. “It could be a neutral zone.”

“Cupid could go with you and be your love mentor,” Token suggested.

“Oh, God. Can we talk about literally anything else?” Craig groaned, burying his face in his hands. Then he added, “But you really think he likes me?”

The Adventure and Sci-Fi teams were grouped in a loose semi-circle, watching Ike and Gizmo play. Toolshed had joined that group, hanging out with Ice Sniper Wendy. Due to their night together, he had not been shocked or judgmental upon learning of the Coon and Princess Kenny’s entanglement, much to Mysterion’s chagrin.

“I don’t know, dude. It’s a stressful time. Things happen,” Stan had said.

“You fucked that other Wendy, didn’t you?” Kenny deduced.

Now, Kenny and Kyle stood off to the side, watching the happy groups gathered.

“I don’t like this,” Kenny said, slipping into his Mysterion voice again. “Chaos didn’t bring us here for bonding, so what’s his game?”

“I agree,” Kyle said. “It’s great that we’ve found everyone, but I don’t think we’re actually any closer to getting home. I just hope the rest of the Freedom Pals are getting somewhere.”

As if he had heard them—and perhaps he had—a large screen appeared in the sky above the courtyard, showing a grinning Professor Chaos, with General Disarray by his side.

“Ugh, not Dougie,” several people murmured.

“Welcome, one and all, to Battle Day!” the supervillain announced. “This is the event that we’ve all been waiting for! Now, you might be wondering, ‘Battle Day? What are we going to battle? More archers, cyborgs, or Mormons?’ Ha ha ha! No, Battle Day will be nothing so ordinary. What you will be battling, heroes, is each other.”

There was a horrified gasp from the crowd.

“We will have a team war,” Chaos continued. “Two teams of twelve against each other. One will be directed by myself, and the other by my sidekick, General Disarray. Five players from each side will be on deck at a time, and the leaders will pick who goes on the battlefield. The first team to get three kills wins.”

At this, cries of anger and dismay rang out from around the courtyard.

“We won’t do it!” Ice Sniper Wendy yelled. “We won’t kill each other.”

Professor Chaos smirked. “Oh, you will. None of you are in any position to be making demands. I have all the power here. If you refuse, I’ll just kill you all. Now, don’t you want to hear what the prize is?”

No one said anything, but Chaos answered anyways. “The prize is the winning team—whatever remains of it—gets to go home. Either to your own world, or—” And Cartman felt like Butters was looking directly at him. “—to one of the other worlds. For example, if you’re sick of living in Cyber Ghetto, this is your chance.”

Cartman’s mind reeled. So, it would be possible. He could go to Kupa Keep with Princess Kenny, as long as they were on the same team and they won. But it would come at a terrible cost. He gripped her hand, and she peered up at him, her eyes unreadable.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering who will be your teammates and who you’ll have to kill,” Chaos said. “So here are the teams: my team will be everyone who was originally grouped with the Coon and Mysterion, and General Disarray’s team will be everyone who was with Toolshed and Human Kite.”

“No!” screamed Tweek, throwing his arms around Marine Craig. They would be on different teams.

Similar dramas played out across the courtyard, as newly reunited friends and loved ones realized they would be on opposite sides.

“This is bullshit!” Sheriff Cartman shouted. He and Heidi had Ike pressed between them protectively, their arms shielding the tiny pirate.

“This isn’t chaos, this is sadism!” Mysterion yelled.

Chaos smiled. “Can’t it be both? Now, let’s get ready.”

He snapped, and the crowd was yanked apart to opposite sides of the courtyard, wrenched from each other’s arms. Toolshed looked in horror at Human Kite beside him, and then at the Coon and Mysterion across the courtyard. How could they be expected to do this?


	17. Team War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BUCKLE UP, BUCKAROOS.

**General Disarray’s Team** : Toolshed, Human Kite, Sheriff Cartman, Calamity Heidi, Poseidon Stan, Youth Pastor Craig, Friar Jimmy, Medusa Bebe, Program Stan, Ice Sniper Wendy, War Boy Tweek, Drow Elf Kyle

 **Professor Chaos’s Team** : Mysterion, the Coon, Witch Doctor Token, Angel Wendy, Robo Bebe, Gizmo Ike, Space Marine Craig, Sharpshooter Shelly, Smuggler Ike, Princess Kenny, Le Bard Jimmy, ???

Two groups were on either side of the courtyard. Ike, now held by Shelly, sobbed and reached out his arms to a stricken Sheriff Cartman and Heidi, but an invisible force stopped the two sides from being reunited. The Coon locked eyes from afar with Human Kite, but Kyle looked just as shocked and terrified as he felt. Toolshed looked no better. Mysterion was the only one of the four talking: he was still shouting profanities at the screen image of Professor Chaos.

Cartman felt arms wrap around him, and he looked down to see Princess Kenny. He hugged her back. Then his heart leapt as he remembered Professor Chaos’s words: he would be able to go to Kupa Keep with her, and if Professor Chaos could do that, surely he could make it so they could travel between the worlds. But that would only happen if they killed three of the people on the other side of the courtyard. Could he do it? Pastor Craig kind of sucked. And if he killed the sheriff version of himself, was it really murder? But then he thought of Ike and Heidi who loved the sheriff, and he felt dizzy.

“What are we going to do?” Princess Kenny murmured.

Cartman leaned down so he could whisper shakily to her. “Princess, you should know that Professor Chaos sent me a note earlier. He said if I do what he says, I’ll get what I want. Which is to be with you.”

Princess Kenny’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped back. “You can’t be considering it.”

“Maybe it will be ok. Maybe this is just an illusion, and we’ll all be ok. Look, you’re willing to kill the ruler of your kingdom—”

“For a higher purpose!” she said, aghast. “To save my countrymen from tyranny. Not to save myself in a murderous man’s twisted game.”

“People are going to die either way.”

“And you’d kill three of them?” she asked, gesturing across the courtyard.

“To save you?” Cartman hissed. “Yes.”

The princess shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“How many soldiers did we kill to get this far?” he asked.

“But those are our friends. Would you kill Kyle?”

“What? Of course not. But—”

“Settle down, everyone!” Professor Chaos ordered.

The anguished crowd looked up at the screen, where the supervillains sneered.

“Now, as you might have noticed, my team is one person short,” said Professor Chaos. “So filling in for the dead monk will be one of my creations.”

At his words, a flock of five pigeons flew down to the courtyard, landing near the Coon’s group. The unwilling participants looked skeptical, but Chaos wasn’t finished.

“Don’t worry. These are no normal pigeons. I’ve superpowered them. You’ll find them to be quite the formidable opponents. They count as a single unit. Then there is also the question of my old friend Mysterion.”

Everyone looked at Kenny.

“As you might know,” Chaos continued, “Mysterion comes back to life. So, if he’s chosen to fight, his death won’t count.” He smiled directly at Kenny. “Sorry. You won’t be able to lead your team to victory by just offing yourself three times. Same for Gizmo clones.”

Mysterion glowered. “Speaking of victory, what’s supposed to happen to the losing team?”

Chaos shrugged, his eyes cruel behind his silver mask. “Whatever I want. If I’m feeling charitable, they can just stay here. It’s not too bad here, is it?”

Cartman’s pulse raced. That really wasn’t too bad. He could go to Kupa Keep with Princess Kenny, everyone else on their team could go home, and the survivors of the other team could just stay here. A castle, beautiful landscapes… He tried to make eye contact with Princess Kenny, but she wouldn’t look at him. Fine. It would be up to him, then, to make the hard decisions. He could take out Pastor Craig, Poseidon, and the sheriff. Or the robot version of Stan, who gave him the creeps anyway. That would be fine. Princess Kenny would forgive him, eventually. He hoped.

“Is everyone ready?” General Disarray asked giddily. “Remember, there will be five people on deck at a time. We’ll add more people into the battle as time passes.”

On the screen, three bars appeared above Professor Chaos, and three above General Disarray. Then Chaos snapped, and Cartman felt himself thrown forward to the front of his group, along with Mysterion, Token, Robo Bebe, and the pigeons.

The Human Kite found himself pulled to the head of General Disarray’s group, with Pastor Craig, Medusa, Heidi, and Tweek beside him. Across the courtyard, he could see that Kenny and Cartman were “on deck” too, and his heart lurched.

Then he heard General Disarray yell out “Human Kite!” and he was pulled forward again, but this time thrust in the air.

Professor Chaos sent out Cartman.

Kyle was nauseous. He had seen Cartman whispering to Princess Kenny, and he felt like his tacit endorsement of the ill-fated relationship had just slapped him in the face. He knew what Cartman was thinking: take out three people, and go live happily ever after with Princess Kenny. Well, maybe. The princess hadn’t looked thrilled with whatever he had proposed. Kyle’s heart pounded. Surely Cartman wouldn’t kill them, right? No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he? After all, this was Eric Theodore Cartman, lifelong wildcard and occasional ally of Professor Chaos. He couldn’t be trusted. Despite that, Kyle always wanted him to do the right thing, always wanted him to, at the last minute, pull the metaphorical pangolin away from the gears of death—

 _Metaphorical pangolin? Gears of death? What the hell am I thinking about? Where did that come from?_ Kyle wondered. _I’m facing one of my best friends on the battlefield and the image of the world’s most-trafficked animal pops into my head for no reason._

He tried to focus. What was he supposed to do, attack Cartman? Cartman wouldn’t even be able to reach him to counterattack. It hardly seemed fair.

“Well, Kyle,” said Cartman, looking up at him and clearly thinking the same thing, “here’s your chance to get back at me for all that messed up stuff I did as a kid. Fire away.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Fatass!”

Cartman scoffed. “You’d wear yourself out long before your puny laser strikes could finish me.”

Then General Disarray ordered Tweek and Heidi to the field.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” Sheriff Cartman yelled at his doppelganger.

“Craig,” called Tweek brokenly to his lover, who was trapped on the other team’s sidelines.

Kyle looked at the war boy with pity. He was nervous wreck, the anxiety they all felt externalized in his shaking form. 

“It’s going to be ok,” Marine Craig promised from across the courtyard, but his voice wavered.

Chaos sent in Mysterion.

“Hi, Kyle,” Kenny said wearily.

“Hey, Kenny.”

“I don’t see any fighting,” Professor Chaos said, his tone a warning.

“Maybe we just won’t fight,” said Heidi belligerently.

The supervillain smirked. “That would be stupid.”

He snapped his fingers and out of nowhere, a small storm of arrows struck Sheriff Cartman.

“No!” cried Heidi as her husband screamed in pain.

A few arrows piercing the large man’s thick arms and shoulders wouldn’t kill him, but Chaos had made his point clear.

“Here,” said Kyle, thinking fast. “I’ll power up and make a shield around my side. Then you can attack without killing them.”

“So, that’s how it’s going to be. Ok, change of rules,” Chaos announced. “The survivors of the side that loses won’t be trapped here. They’ll be killed. And if you don’t all start actually trying to win, everybody dies. Pigeons, get in there.”

The flock of pigeons started flying right toward him. Kyle didn’t know what to do. Just a few moments earlier he would have thought of this as a freebie, but now his mind was struggling to catch up with the rule change Chaos had just implemented. If he killed these pigeons it would be one point closer to freeing his team, but also one point closer to the other team—including Cartman and Kenny—being killed.

Cartman snapped him out of his thoughts. “We got to start somewhere,” the Coon yelled. “Kill the birds, you guys!”

Tweek started throwing his spears, and Kyle began shooting his laser eyes. To his surprise, the pigeons were sturdier than they looked. One of them dive-bombed Heidi and seemed to do some damage. General Disarray called in Medusa.

Medusa began firing arrows at the flock, and two of them fell to the ground and transformed into green snakes. They made a beeline toward Cartman.

“Careful,” Medusa warned. “They're poisonous.”

Cartman stomped on the transformed reptiles, but a yelp indicated one had managed to bite him. “Don’t worry,” he said, tossing the dead snakes aside. “I’m tougher than nails.”

Soon, all the pigeons were dead. A bar disappeared above Chaos’s head as the small, one-eyed cyborgs the groups had faced earlier made an appearance to carry off the bodies.

“Time to get serious, team!” Professor Chaos shouted. “You’re one point down. They kill two more of you, and all of you are dead. Bebe, Token, in you go. Gizmo, too.”

Cartman whirled around at Gizmo’s name. He hadn’t realized the small creature had been put on deck. As he looked back at his team, his heart skipped a beat. Now on deck were Bard Jimmy, Marine Craig, Angel Wendy, Ike…and Princess Kenny. If this didn’t end fast, Wendy, Ike, or Princess Kenny would end up on the battlefield. He made brief eye contact with his lover, and as if she knew what he was thinking, she shook her head. Cartman felt a stab of anger, and nodded toward Ike. _Do you want him to die?_ he asked with his eyes. The princess glanced at the boy and her face crumpled, tears flowing, and Cartman was flooded with shame—and hatred for Chaos. _Fuck Butters. No, not Butters. Not anymore._

“Giz,” he called. “You come stand behind me, just like before, ok?”

“I fight!” Gizmo argued.

“I know, but right now, you have to stay behind me. Hold onto my tail.”

“Do it, Gizmo,” Bebe urged. “You can send out your clones, but you stay behind Eric.”

Gizmo reluctantly took his place behind the Coon.

“You all right?” Kenny asked, suddenly beside him.

“Are any of us?” Cartman replied dryly.

“But the venom…”

Cartman shook his head. “I can feel it, but I’m fine.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. His left leg tingled where he’d been bitten, and his forehead was sweaty, but he didn’t feel like his life was in danger.

“So, what do we do, fearless leader?” he asked, changing the subject.

Kenny wanted to collapse and curl up in a ball, or maybe just scream. If Professor Chaos had his way, he was about to either see Kyle and Stan die or Eric die. He, of course, would just go on living. It was his worst nightmare, accelerated. “I don’t know. I…” Suddenly, Kenny swore he could hear the monk’s voice in his head. _Your friends back home. They’re fighting for you. Hold on._ “I think we should drag this out as long as we can. The rest of the Freedom Pals are trying to get us out of here. I know it.”

Token nodded. “Let’s hope. Anyone can hit me,” he called to the battlefield. “I’ll need to take life forces back to survive, but I’ll be careful doing it.”

“Same,” said Cartman. With Mysterion on the field, he felt his strength increase, and that made him cocky. “Not that I can suck up life forces like an emo vampire, but you can throw whatever at me.”

“Eric, you’re already poisoned,” called Princess Kenny, worry evident in her voice.

Cartman threw his hands up in exasperation. “Well, what do you want me to do, lady? Die or not die?”

Her tears welled up again, and Cartman’s shame returned. He turned back to the battlefield.

What followed was an improvised but carefully choreographed non-lethal battle. General Disarray’s team focused their attacks on the Coon and Token, Kyle wincing as he was forced to attack his childhood friend. Pelting Cartman with laser eye beams wasn’t nearly as fun as nine-year-old Kyle would have thought.

Professor Chaos’s team had the trickier job of gently attacking the much weaker team. Bebe fired rounds that grazed their opponents, far more restrained than she had been in previous battles. Cartman mostly shoved ineffectually while Token took small amounts of energy to sustain himself. They saved their rougher moves for when the Human Kite had a shield around their opponents. Things got easier when Disarray added Pastor Craig and Friar Jimmy, who could heal his teammates, albeit slowly.

Cartman wondered how long they could keep this up. He was honestly surprised Chaos was letting this non-fight happen. When he risked a glance at the screen, Chaos was smiling knowingly. _What is he planning?_

“Another!” he heard Gizmo cry out from behind him.

Good, that meant he was sending out clones. Disarray’s team could focus on killing those, and it would stall the fight further.

A Gizmo clone dashed out from behind him, instantly felled by one of Medusa’s arrows.

The change in Bebe was instant. “Bebe will terminate you!” the cyborg announced emotionlessly. Her eyes glowed a brighter red and she charged forward, pumping her weapon into her stunned mythic copy.

“Stop!” screamed Heidi, as similar cries echoed from both sides of the courtyard.

Tweek froze, unable to make himself fire on his friend to defend his teammate. Kyle fired beams at Bebe from above, and Pastor Craig charged the cyborg, earning a volley of direct hits from her.

But their attempt at saving their teammate was in vain. Medusa collapsed. Her spilled blood matched her red dress. Her snakes writhed, then went limp. A bar disappeared from above General Disarray’s head.

“That makes the score 1:1,” Professor Chaos announced.

Poseidon dropped to his knees as a Titan carried his former enemy’s body off the battlefield. “You’ll pay for this!” he shouted at the screen. “The gods will smite you for what you’ve done! The devil, too! There will be no place in Heaven or Hades you can hide!”

Although still alive, Pastor Craig was in dire straits, being frantically tended to by Friar Jimmy.

“I didn’t think this was how it would all end, Brother,” Craig said, “with me dying trying to save a monster. You’ll pray for her, won’t you? You’ll pray for both of us?”

“Just hang in there, Father,” Jimmy urged.

Toolshed looked on in horror, his arms tight around Wendy.

“Bebe, why?” she asked.

The cyborg stood stock still, her eyes still glowing. “Bebe must terminate.”

Professor Chaos laughed. “Humans are hard to control, but cyborgs work a little differently. And the cyborgs here are programed to protect their allies. With a little adjusting, that means she will retaliate at her fullest capacity against any hits on denizens from the Cyber Ghetto on my team.”

Wendy gasped. “It’s because Medusa hit Gizmo’s clone.”

“I’m sorry,” Bebe forced out, her eyes a little dimmer, sounding shaken. “I had my orders.”

Ignoring the tragedy below, General Disarray spoke. “I call in Sheriff Cartman.”

The sheriff was thrust onto the field. His wife ran into his bloodied arms.

“And I also,” Disarray continued, “call in Program Stan.”

Toolshed tensed. Another cyborg. If anyone on the other team hit Tweek, Program Stan would react the same way Bebe had.

“Good choice, General. I call in Jimmy the Bard,” countered Professor Chaos.

The newest additions were moved to the field, and there was an awkward pause.

“Start fighting,” growled Professor Chaos, “or I’ll start taking down people at random.”

The two Eric Cartmans made eye contact and made a silent agreement. They could both absorb a lot of damage. Soon the Coon was being pistol whipped while the sheriff was scratched up with razor-sharp claws. Program Stan and Robo Bebe sparred similarly, as did Mysterion and Heidi.

“Tweek? Jimmies? I don’t see any fighting,” warned Chaos.

At Pastor Craig’s urging, Friar Jimmy reluctantly stood and stepped away, heading toward other members of his team who might need healing. Tweek sobbed and threw another spear at Token, who was also taking shots from Kyle.

“I’ll tr-tr-try to do this lightly, folks,” Bard Jimmy murmured. He pulled out his lute and played his attack note.

All of General Disarray’s team on the field yelled out in pain simultaneously. Kyle almost fell from the sky as the wave of hurt hit him.

Several things happened at once.

First, a second bar disappeared from above General Disarray’s head. Friar Jimmy spun around, looking toward his colleague, and cried out. Pastor Craig was dead. But Bard Jimmy’s lute assault had not only finished off Pastor Craig, but wounded Tweek—which triggered Program Stan’s full attack mode.

Program Stan tore away from his fight with Bebe, involuntarily headed straight toward the bard. Mysterion darted to block his path and was easily killed—a death that did not count. Going more on instinct than anything, the Coon placed himself in front of the cyborg, feeling his strength weaken as Mysterion died. Program Stan began thrashing him with his disc-shaped weapon, while the Coon lashed back with his claws.

A proper fight had broken out. The Coon and Program Stan were at the heart of it, with Token and Bebe backing the Coon up. Tweek stood to the side, in tears, futilely begging the cyborg to stop. The sheriff was trying to insert himself between the two combatants, yelling that they were going to get everyone killed.

Cartman was weakening. The venom coursing through his body was doing real damage. He was feverish, and his left leg was numb and kept buckling. He’d taken many strikes throughout the battle, and they were all catching up to him. And Program Stan was very, very strong. He knew he didn’t have much left.

“Come on, Eric!” he heard Chaos’s voice shout from the screen. “The other team is down two. Just one more, and you win! You’ll have everything you could want. I promise!”

One more. One more, and all this would be over, and he could go be a king with Queen Kenny. He could see the hysterical Tweek from the corner of his eye, still pleading at Program Stan. One swipe. One swipe across the shirtless man’s unprotected jugular was all it would take. One swipe, and…

And Kyle and Stan would be killed. Two of his best friends. Two of the people he loved most in the world, even if he would never admit it. Kyle and Stan would be killed, as well as the seven other remaining members of that team.

But if he, Cartman, died, the score would be 2-2. If Kenny was right and their friends back home were trying to save them, a tie might buy them a few more seconds, maybe minutes. It seemed hopeless, but maybe in those gained moments, something would happen. _Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, guys. Goodbye, Princess._

He dropped his arms.

“Eric!” he could hear Princess Kenny scream from the sidelines, her panic stabbing him in the heart.

“Do it,” he growled at Program Stan.

When the fatal blow came from the cyborg’s disc, he didn’t stop it.

Kyle was trapped in the air. All he could do was watch as Cartman fell to the ground. All he could do was scream—whether out loud or in his head, he couldn’t tell—as a second bar disappeared over Professor Chaos’s head, as the battle paused so Titans could carry away the bodies of Pastor Craig and the Coon. Another moved Kenny’s body back to his team’s side to await resurrection. _Kenny won’t know_ , he realized. _He’ll come to not knowing._ The thought was almost too much to bear. He could see Gizmo and Ike calling, “Eric!” in confusion as Cartman was taken away. He could see Princess Kenny collapsing in tears on deck, Angel Wendy embracing her. He looked to his own team and saw Stan, his face white as a sheet as the other Wendy tried to console him.

With an angry shout, he fired a series of lasers at the screen in the sky. It did nothing. To his faint surprise, Professor Chaos wasn’t gloating for once. Instead, he looked angry and grim.

“The score is 2:2,” Chaos seethed. “Ike and Angel, you’re on.”

Ike, crying now, ran to Heidi and the sheriff, who scooped him up. Fresh ire coursed through Kyle’s wounded body. He would get Professor Chaos back for this. Somehow.

He was about to recklessly fire at the screen again when something happened. Professor Chaos looked off-screen, Disarray following his lead. Both looked confused, then startled.

“Fighters, we will have a brief intermission,” Chaos announced, clearly rattled.

With that, the screen disappeared.

Slowly, the captives realized they were no longer held in place. Ice Sniper Wendy and Toolshed rushed onto the battlefield, she joining her traumatized Cyber Ghetto companions and Stan meeting with Kyle, who was finally able to land.

“This can’t be happening,” Stan sobbed in his friend’s arms.

Kyle didn’t have a response for him. Instead he scanned the sorry sight of the courtyard. Friar Jimmy, Poseidon, Token, and Angel Wendy were gathered together, looking dazed. Princess Kenny was being comforted by Bard Jimmy, and, surprisingly, Drow Elf Kyle. Kyle felt a pang and led Stan over to them.

When the princess saw them approaching, she stood.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I know he was your childhood friend, I—”

She broke off, and Kyle and Stan embraced her.

“I know,” Kyle whispered. “He cared about you. I could tell. He was happy.”

“Guys, what happened?”

Stan and Kyle jolted at the familiar voice. Kenny was lying on the ground nearby, and had just revived. He blinked up at the scene in front of him, at the distressed groups, and then back at Stan and Kyle, at their reddened, tear-streaked faces. A look of panicked understanding came over his own face.

“No,” Kenny said tightly. “No. Where’s—”

But he was interrupted by another familiar voice, one he, Stan, and Kyle hadn’t heard in days.

“Everyone, just a moment. We’re going to get you home,” the disembodied voice announced.

“Nichole!” Stan cried. “It’s Nichole, they found—”

Then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left, guys.


	18. Freedom Pals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maury: You said there were going to be two more chapters. The test results indicate that was a lie. 
> 
> It's true. I was planning on only two more, but split one up. This one is a little short, but needed to be broken off from the rest. So there will be 20 chapters in all. FINAL ANSWER.*
> 
> *Unless I get long-winded**
> 
> **Update 12/8/20: I got long-winded. Chapter 19 of 21 will be coming soon.

_They had woken up in an unfamiliar place. Mysterion had looked up to see Toolshed and Human Kite sprawled out beside him, and then most of the Freedom Pals—plus Nichole—gathered around them. For a few seconds, Mysterion had clung tight to a possibility: the whole thing had just been an illusion conjured by Professor Chaos, and if he turned around, the Coon would be behind him, alive. Annoyed and bitching, but alive. Mysterion purposely didn’t look back so he could hang on to that idea. But then Mosquito ruined it by asking where the Coon was._

_Mysterion didn’t answer, because he had then spotted Professor Chaos and General Disarray. The two were bound, held captive by Tupperware and Super Craig. Instantly, Mysterion was on top of Chaos, screaming, threatening, demanding, throwing punches. He was hardly the strongest member of Freedom Pals, but it had taken a number of his teammates to pry him off of the villain._

_Later, the returning three were filled in on what had happened. When the rest of the team had broken into Professor Chaos’s lair on that doomed raid, they discovered that Professor Chaos had managed to escape and that Mysterion, Toolshed, Human Kite, and the Coon were missing. However, they did find documentation of the supervillain’s plans to steal what he called a “universe pass” and use it to trap his enemies and others across the multiverse in a game. Upon seeing the gaming element, the Freedom Pals had called in Nichole._

_It had taken a few days, but eventually, Call Girl located Professor Chaos in a secret lab hidden deep in the San Juan Forest. When the Freedom Pals broke in, they found Chaos and Disarray at the game’s controls. While the superheroes fought the two supervillains, Nichole hacked into the game and managed to send everyone back to their respective realities—moments too late for the Coon, but just in time before Chaos fired a blast at the universe pass, a magical gold medallion, blowing it to smithereens. A split second later, and they all would have been trapped in the game forever._

Kenny hit snooze on his phone and pulled the covers back over his head. He’d been back at Freedom Pals headquarters in SoDoSoPa for almost a week, and even though he told himself that the move meant a fresh start, he still didn’t feel like doing anything.

It had been over three months since he, Stan, and Kyle had been rescued from Professor Chaos’s sick game. In the immediate aftermath, Stan had stayed with Kyle at headquarters while the latter recovered from his injuries, and Kenny had gone to Liane’s to break the awful news. He’d stayed with her for a week, Karen joining them on a leave from school to grieve with the woman who’d taken them in when they needed it. Then Liane went to Nebraska to stay with family there, and Kenny had taken up the mantle of Mysterion again.

That had only lasted a few days. He couldn’t stop thinking that this was what the rest of his existence would be: mourning his mortal friends and family. Sometimes he thought he heard the soothing words of the monk in his head, but he angrily blocked them out. The last thing he wanted to hear were trite platitudes. At headquarters he ping-ponged between staring into space and tersely hovering over Timmy and Nichole, who were studying the remnants of the magical gold medallion. On his nightly patrols he was on edge and too reactive, brawling with assholes over petty crimes just like he had brawled with Scott Tenorman at Cartman’s memorial service. He couldn’t concentrate, his teammates were walking on eggshells around him, and Professor Chaos and General Disarray were locked up anyway. Finally, he accepted that he was in no state to continue. By then Kyle and Stan had gone home to their respective families, and Kenny joined Stan at Tegridy Farms, where they slept, helped out lethargically and occasionally with chores, and got stoned, entirely dependent on Sharon and Randy for keeping them fed and hydrated.

Three months later, it had been Kenny’s suggestion that he and Stan finally rejoin their team. Being at HQ would give a sense of normalcy, he thought. And surely being back in the superhero world would make him feel a spark again. He didn’t think he’d be _happy_ , but he thought he would manage to prowl around with a sense of purpose, grimly performing heroics. After all, he was Mysterion: the brooding, relentless, justice-seeking vigilante.

But now that he was here, Kenny honestly wasn’t sure why he’d wanted to return. Without Chaos and Disarray to worry about, the rest of the team was handling the greater Denver area just fine. With less time spent battling supervillains, Wendy was leading the charge on branching into other types of civic service, like delivering meals to the needy and pitching in on environmental clean-up days. Scott Malkinson was even communicating with other superhero groups about forming an emergency insulin distribution network. Freedom Pals had been doing well without him, so why hadn’t he just remained at Tegridy Farms, stoned to oblivion on hyper-local weed, numbly folding t-shirts for the farm giftshop, growing out a patchy goatee, and waiting for Randy to bring him something with crème fraiche in it?

Nevertheless, when his snooze button went off again, Kenny reluctantly got out of bed. In the “before times,” he’d have showered, shaved, and dressed in his Mysterion costume before appearing outside of his room, but on this morning, he just pulled on random sweatpants and a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad.

Before getting breakfast for himself, he fed Terrance and Phillip, scooping up a handful of pellets and dumping it in their bowl. Terrance and Phillip were the names he’d chosen for the two hamsters the Freedom Pals had rescued from Professor Chaos’s San Juan Forest lab, even though said hamsters were female. It was unclear what Chaos had done to them, but they were super-powered, and their enclosure had to be made with the type of glass used for shark tanks. They were in his room because Token had suggested it might be nice for Kenny to have some company. Whatever.

He dragged himself into the team’s kitchen and dining area, where most of the gang was finishing up breakfast. Craig, Tweek, Token, Jimmy, and Clyde were sitting together, chatting over emptied plates, and irrational irritation flooded him. _Look at those assholes with their intact friend group, looking all happy because no one in their squad got turned into a supervillain or died. What a bunch of smug motherfuckers._

“Good morning, Ken,” greeted Bradley, who was helping Timmy with the last of his breakfast.

“Hey,” replied Kenny, hoping Timmy hadn’t ready his thoughts just then.

 _Tweek made cinnamon rolls. They’re delicious_ , Timmy said telepathically. _Pretty nice for a smug motherfucker, no?_

He glared at Timmy and grabbed one of the last cinnamon rolls, not bothering with a plate as he ate it while leaning against the kitchen island.

“Aren’t they good?” Scott asked. “I had two. Totally worth the extra insulin.”

Kenny was about to shrug, but then saw Tweek’s anxious expression. “Yeah. It’s great. Thanks, Tweek.”

“Do you want anything else? I could make you a smoothie,” Bradley offered.

Kenny shook his head. No, he didn’t want a blueberry and peppermint smoothie. Gross.

Stan stumbled in, looking hungover (which he possibly was). He stalked over to the coffee pot, where Wendy and Kyle were standing with their own mugs.

“Hey,” Stan said, ostensibly nodding at both Kyle and Wendy, but not making eye contact with the latter. He’d hardly been able to look at her since they got back.

Wendy rolled her eyes, and Kyle looked at her apologetically. Out of all three, he was probably coping the best—at least externally. He returned to HQ after spending a few weeks with his family and started doing regular air patrols, looking for anyone in danger. Having a job made him feel useful and helped his mood, even if the list of things he had seen that made him cry included Stark’s Pond, the roof of Casa Bonita, and a racoon eating garbage.

Once Stan was seated at the table, sipping his coffee and chewing on the last cinnamon roll, Wendy spoke up.

“Stan, I heard about a project that’s right up your alley. A small town near Pueblo is in danger of losing its library because the building isn’t ADA-compliant. Parts of it are too small to accommodate wheelchairs, and the bathroom isn’t up to code. It’s the only library for miles around. I was thinking you and Timmy could take the lead in renovating it. He’s got the Americans with Disabilities Act memorized.”

 _It’s true. I can recite all of Title 3 to you_ , Timmy offered.

“That sounds good,” Stan said, still not looking at Wendy.

“What about the universe pass?” Kenny said.

Token sighed. “Kenny, Nichole and Timmy are getting nowhere with that thing. It’s destroyed, and had a magical element we didn’t understand anyway. And even if we did have it, I don’t think it would—”

“It’s our only chance!” Kenny snapped.

The witch doctor Token, Poseidon, and the others had talked about how the pope in their world could resurrect people. If they could get Pope Timmy here—

_When one door is locked, look for another door._

The voice in his head wasn’t Timmy’s, but the monk’s.

 _Unless you have something actually useful to say, with concrete instructions, shut up_ , Kenny angrily thought back.

 _Who are you talking to?_ Timmy asked.

Maybe the monk’s voice was imagined. _No one_ , Kenny replied.

“Kenny,” Wendy said gently, “we’ll keep what we have of the medallion, and maybe someday we’ll learn more about it. But there’s good we can do in the world in the meantime.”

“Maybe I should interrogate Chaos again,” Kenny mused, ignoring her.

Professor Chaos had given very little away in interrogations. Usually, Timmy would handle that, but Chaos was immune to mind-reading. Disarray had given them some information, but nothing on how the universe pass worked or where they could get another one.

This time, Craig spoke up.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? The guards had to drag you out last time, and you didn’t even learn anything.”

Kenny glared at him. “So you want me to just give up? Would you give up if it were Tweek or Tricia? Or even Clyde?”

“Hey!” said Clyde.

“None of us want to give up,” said Token, “we just don’t think interrogating Chaos is getting us anywhere. Wendy and I questioned him while you were gone, and came away with the impression that he has no idea how to get another universe pass.”

Kenny’s shoulders slumped, and he turned away from the group, staring at the floor. Kyle, also looking grim, came over and put an arm around his shoulders.

Stan broke the silence. “So you are giving up."

Wendy looked like she was going to scream with irritation, but did her best to keep her voice level. “No, that is not what he said.”

Stan argued back, finally looking at her. “Yes, it is. Our one chance to get Cartman back is to get to the world where Pope Timmy is. The only way we can do that is with the universe pass. If you’re giving up on fixing what's left of the pass we do have or finding another one, then you’re giving up on getting him back. And also on being able to help everyone we met from Cyber Ghetto.”

“Like the Wendy you like so much better than me. I get it, Stan!” Wendy snapped.

Stan turned away.

Jimmy glanced around the room of upset faces. “G-guys, this is getting a bit heated. Maybe we should—”

Whatever remedy for the animosity Jimmy was going to suggest was interrupted by a flash of green light near the refrigerator. Suddenly, four figures were standing there.

The most recognizable was Angel Wendy, with her halo and white wings. Then there was a Kenny none of them had ever seen before, in a toga and wearing winged sandals and a winged golden helmet. But most surprising to the three surviving superheroes who had been inside the game were the other two figures: Medusa, alive and dressed in white, and Pastor Craig, with red wings and red horns.

The face of the angelic Wendy broke into a delighted grin. “We found you!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, everyone who has been reading, giving kudos, and commenting! Cupid Cartman is shooting you with his love arrows for me.


	19. Hell, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny finds out how he can get Cartman back. It requires a journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it's been awhile. And...I said we were capped at 20 chapters. But...there will now be 21, because this got too long.

The group of superheroes stared in shock and awe at the arrival of four familiar-looking guests.

“Medusa!” Stan cried, jumping up from his chair. “Is that…you?”

“It sure is, mortal,” said Medusa, radiant in her new white gown.

“And Pastor Craig,” added Kyle, looking at the horned, winged demonic presence who still wore a black dress shirt, pants, and jacket, but no collar.

“Not a pastor anymore,” the demon said drolly.

“But you’re alive,” Kenny said, looking at the two intently. “You were both killed in the game, but—” He cut himself off, his heart pounding. “Then it must be possible, that we could get Cartman—”

“That’s what we’re here to talk about,” said Angel Wendy gently. “But it won’t be simple.”

For the rest of the Freedom Pals, seeing doubles of themselves and their friends was a novel experience, and they stared openly as the four arrivals settled down at the table. Wonder Tweek gripped Super Craig’s hand as he took in Medusa’s constantly shimmying snake hair, while Craig stared blankly at the other Craig’s horns. Call Girl Wendy ogled her double’s glowing halo. Bradley and Scott hurried to get cups of coffee for their guests.

“So, n-n-new Craig,” Jimmy said, looking at the stern stranger’s wings. “I t-take it you had a Red Bull?”

Demon Craig’s expression didn’t change. “A what?”

Jimmy frowned. Apparently brand-based humor was not universal.

“Since none of you know me, I’m Hermes,” the toga-wearing Kenny lookalike said. “It’s good to finally meet you. You must be Kenny, since you’re lucky enough to look like me. The Ninjew knock-off must be Kyle, and Young Poseidon here must be Stan. Do I have that right?”

“You got it,” Medusa said, sipping coffee from one of the dozen Tweak Bros Coffee mugs the Tweaks had donated to their son and son-in-law’s superhero enterprise. (The other half of their mugs were from the Tegridy Farms gift shop.)

“I don’t understand. How did you get here?” Stan asked.

_However you did it, what this means for the study of physics is earth-shattering_ , Timmy said telepathically.

“It wasn’t easy,” Angel Wendy said. “Believe us, we’ve been trying. Hermes here is the traveler, able to go between the realms in our world. After a lot of searching, he found a pathway to this world—with a little guidance from an old friend,” she clarified, looking at Kenny.

_The monk_ , Kenny thought, and he might have heard a familiar faint chuckle in reply.

Angel Wendy continued. “Then with Craig’s new teleportation skills, here we are!”

“But how are Craig and Medusa alive?” asked Kenny. “Did Pope Timmy revive them?”

“He was part of it,” Angel Wendy said. “We went to him as soon as we were returned to our world, hoping he could at least resurrect Craig. We weren’t sure if he’d be able to revive Medusa, since she was on the other side. But because they had died in another world, it was much more difficult than usual to bring them back. The pope’s powers were limited. So, with Jesus mediating, we reached out to Satan. He’s actually a pretty nice guy, or at least neutral.”

“We did a trade,” said Medusa. “I was resurrected and joined their team, and Craig was given new life as a demon.”

“How is that going?” Stan asked his former teammate. “At least you already knew Poseidon well.”

“It’s strange to be on the side of goodness,” Medusa admitted, “but yes, Poseidon’s been a great friend. All of these folks have.” She smiled at Hermes and Angel Wendy. “As for the two sides, well…we’re not really fighting each other anymore.”

“It’s true,” Hermes agreed. “We’re practically one huge team now. You should see what Dark Angel Red and the Ninjew can do when they’re allied.”

“Does this mean you’re finally dating the demon Tweek?” Kyle asked Craig.

Hermes laughed, Medusa dramatically sighed, and Craig rolled his eyes.

“No! Can you believe it?” Medusa cried. “Poor Tweek’s been pining after this guy for years, but gets rejected because he’s a demon and Craig’s a closeted Catholic priest. Then Craig also becomes a demon, but it _still_ doesn’t happen.”

“I’m just not into him,” Demon Craig said with a shrug. “No offense,” he added to the present Tweek and his scowling husband.

“But just because he turned down the imp doesn’t mean he hasn’t gotten over all that internalized homophobia crap,” Hermes said, giving the demon a patronizing clap on the shoulder.

Medusa brightened. “It’s true. He’s been seeing this hot Mormon guy.”

“I knew it!” Kyle gasped. “You were so into those missionaries!”

The demonic Craig blushed red, matching his horns. “I am not here to talk about Gary.”

The name rang a bell for Stan. “Gary?”

“Congrats on the sex, but what about Cartman?” Kenny asked. “Can we get him back?”

The mood pivoted, turning anxious once more.

“Even if it’s in demon form,” Kyle pleaded. “We can handle him.”

“Yeah, he’s basically our brother,” Stan added. “We’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll talk to Satan ourselves if we need to.”

The mystical four looked serious, and the angel answered for them.

“It wasn’t an easy decision for our higher ups. Bringing Craig and Medusa back was unusual enough, but meddling in the death of someone not even from our world was totally unheard of. However, you are being given a chance. Kenny, specifically. He’ll have to go alone, as he is already someone who walks with Death.”

“Go where?” the other Wendy challenged.

“The Underworld,” Medusa replied.

Upstairs in his room, Kenny hastily dressed in his Mysterion costume. He was going to the Underworld, the Land of the Dead. And Hermes from Greek mythology—who looked like him—was going to show him the way. It was all overwhelming, but it didn’t matter: they were going to get Cartman back! He was going to retrieve their annoying, stupid, whiny, very occasionally selfless, much-loved friend, and nothing could stop him. His hands trembled as he snapped on his utility belt. Would he even need the belt? What did one take on a journey to Hell?

_Take the hamsters_ , the monk’s voice said.

“What?” Kenny asked aloud, looking at Terrance and Phillip’s enclosure.

_Take the hamsters._

_Why on Earth would I take hamsters to Hell?_ Kenny wondered. But he had to admit that the monk—whether his voice was real or imagined—had been right. One door to getting Cartman back had closed, but another had opened. And if he was reading the Angel Wendy’s hint correctly, the disembodied monk had even helped the mystical team reach Freedom Pals Headquarters.

“Okay, then. Come on, ladies,” Kenny said, opening the cage and scooping up the two soft, superpowered rodents. He stashed them in one of his belt’s pouches, along with a few more pellets so they wouldn’t get hungry. “Try not to shit and piss too much in there,” he added. As if to spite him, Terrance immediately pooped.

As Kenny headed back to the kitchen, he pulled up his cowl and mask, so he was fully Mysterion by the time he faced the others.

“You still have that stupid hood with the question mark on it,” Demon Craig stated.

“Be nice,” Angel Wendy scolded. “He’s about to undertake an arduous journey.”

“Can’t help it. I’m a demon.”

“You were rude as a priest, too,” said Kyle.

The demon shrugged. “I’m going to be the one teleporting him. I don’t have to be nicer than that.”

“It’s true,” said Hermes, holding out his hand for his double. “Come on, slightly-less-attractive me. We’ll take you to the entrance.”

“Wait!” said Stan.

He and Kyle threw their arms around Kenny.

“Be careful getting Fatass for us,” said Kyle.

“I will,” said Kenny, hugging them back.

Then he stepped over to the demon and the messenger god, who put their hands on his shoulders.

“Darkness will prevail!” shouted Demon Craig, and there was a swirl of white light.

When they rematerialized, Mysterion, Craig, and Hermes were standing in a glen within a dense forest. In front of them was a large, craggy rock formation, with a cave entrance at its base. Kenny felt the pouch where the hamsters were—good, they were still moving.

“This is it,” Hermes said, gesturing towards the cave.

“You can’t give me any hints as to what I’m up against?” Kenny asked.

Back at headquarters, the angel, Hermes, Medusa, and Craig had told him there would be multiple trials he would have to endure in order to bring Cartman back successfully.

“Sorry,” the god said with a rueful smile. “The trials depend on the person. There are some old standbys, but if I told you what they are, your victory might be void. Just be brave, and be smart. Follow the instructions.”

_And follow your heart_ , the monk added.

“We’ll be here when you—and company—return,” Hermes promised, giving him a wink.

Craig was already leaning against a tree, apparently settled in for a long wait.

“Thanks,” Kenny said.

He took a deep breath, and entered the cave.

The light from the entrance faded quickly, and soon Kenny was in total darkness. That only lasted a moment, though, as he had a mini flashlight in his utility belt. It even had fresh batteries, thanks to the supply checklist Kyle insisted they use. He shone the light on the cave walls. They were damp, and occasionally a bug or salamander scurried across. He even saw a little snake on the rocky ground, and thought of Medusa. _Too bad I can’t talk with snakes and get a sense of what’s up ahead._

Eventually, he lost track of time. The cave angled down sharply, and he slipped several times, tearing his cape and scuffing his outfit. Then the path went uphill, which seemed odd, since they were underground, and he had to climb. Then downhill again, then up. There were tight turns and long, straight sections that seemed unending.

At the end of one of these miles-long, ruler-straight paths, there was a sharp turn to the left. After this short path, the cave opened up into a vast cavern.

The cavern looked like the interior of a cathedral and smelled like the smoking area of an airport. There were columns topped with gargoyles, stone crosses, and an alter strewn with candles. By this candlelight, Kenny could see he wasn’t alone. In the center of the candles sat a curvy woman about his age in a black dress, puffing a cigarette in an elegant holder and reading what looked like an ancient tome. She stared at him for a moment, then sighed.

“Oh, great. Some poseur has disturbed our prison of darkness.”

Kenny was startled by a dark figure jumping from above and landing in front of him in a crouch. The figure was a man who stood, regarded him, took a drag on his cigarette, and tossed a lock of black and red hair out of his eyes.

“The hell are you wearing?” the man asked scornfully.

“This is either the guy we were told about, or some loser got really lost looking for ComicCon.”

The third voice came from a corner. Kenny turned his flashlight towards the source, and the beam landed on a tall man with curly black hair, lounging on an ornate chair.

“If he’s looking for ComicCon, I say we shank him and let his capitalist-feeding, monopoly-loving conformist blood flow like a river.”

This pronouncement was made by a gangly teen, roughly Ike’s age, who stepped out from behind one of the stone crosses. His right hand held a switchblade. Like the others, he was dressed in black, which was also the color of his lipstick.

Mysterion refused to let himself be intimidated. “I’m not looking for ComicCon. I’m here to get my friend.”

“Sorry, Firkle,” said the woman, closing her book. “No shanking anyone today. This is the guy.”

“If he’s the guy, he’s immortal,” said Firkle, walking over to stand beside the ornate chair, joined by the woman and other man. “We could still shank him, and he’d regenerate. That’s actually pretty hardcore. Do you think he’d regenerate even if we cut out his skull?”

“Jesus, calm down, Firkle,” said the man with red and black hair.

The overeager teen pocketed the switchblade. “Sorry, Pete.”

“You’re Kenny McCormick, right?” the guy in the chair asked, pointing at Kenny with an orb-topped cane.

Kenny approached the goth quartet. “You can call me Mysterion, but yes. And you…you look familiar. Did you guys go to South Park Elementary?”

“We can go wherever we want, Mysterion,” said the woman, pronouncing his name like it was an insult. “We don’t have limitations like you do.”

“So, Mysterion,” said the seated goth, crossing one leg over the other, “you’re here to get your friend Eric Cartman back from the dead. And you’re willing to walk through Hell to get him.”

“That’s right.”

“That’s pretty goth,” the woman admitted.

“I’d do it for any of you,” Firkle boasted.

Kenny was losing his patience with the group. “Am I supposed to fight the four of you, or what?”

The man with the red dye job, apparently called Pete, rolled his eyes. “Yuck. Look at this macho man of the military-industrial complex. No, Mysterion, you don’t have to fight us. Instead, we want to see if you _really_ want your friend back.”

“Of course I want him back. He’s my best friend. We’ve been friends since we were literally babies.”

With a pang he recalled the earliest photo of the four of them together. They were toddlers in onesies, it was summer, and the four of them were playing together…with fireworks. _Jesus, who gave us fireworks? Probably Stan’s dad. Or maybe his uncle. It really is_ _a_ _miracle any of us reached adulthood at all._

“So?” challenged the woman, interrupting his nostalgia. “Just because you’ve known him a long time doesn’t mean he’s a good person. After all, he’s down here instead of up there, singing lame songs with the fucking angels or whatever.”

Kenny’s jaw tightened. Was Cartman the best person on Earth? Not by a long shot. But he could come through when it was important, and damn it, Kenny didn’t care how deserving or not he was. “He’s no saint, but he’s my friend, and he died saving a bunch of us. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The seated goth took a long drag on a cigarette, then slowly blew out the smoke. “We have an offer for you. You’re immortal, and that must suck, right? Knowing you can never enjoy the sweet release of death. Trapped forever in the bright, cheery world of pain and suffering. Henrietta here can fix that.”

Startled, Kenny locked eyes with the woman.

“Michael’s telling the truth,” Henrietta said. “I can make you mortal again, Mysterion.”

“If…” Kenny prompted, knowing there had to be catch, even though his heart was pounding at the possibility.

“If you give up your quest to save Eric Cartman,” said Michael.

The catch was expected, but Kenny’s heart still sank. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can. It would be easy,” Henrietta said. “I do a little spell—poof—you’re mortal. You walk out of this cave and tell your friends that you tried your best, but failed. Say you had to beat Cthulu in a fight to win your pal back, and you got your ass kicked. Not only that, you lost your immortality as punishment for losing. Then you can grow old and die as a shriveled-up geezer seventy years from now, just like you want.”

Kenny felt dizzy. He wouldn’t have to outlive everyone. His friends, his family—Karen. He could be like everybody else.

But then he imagined having to live with the knowledge that he had traded his immortality for Cartman’s life. He’d never be able to forget it. Those years on Earth would feel like an eternity.

“No,” he said firmly, even though the word felt like a knife in his heart. “I want my friend.”

“Final answer?” asked Henrietta.

“Final answer.”

The four goths looked at each other, then looked back at Kenny.

“Good on you, Mysterion. You pass,” Michael said.

Firkle nodded approvingly. “True friendship is hardcore.”

Michael gestured with his cane to an arched doorway. “Keep walking, Mysterion. There are more trials ahead.”

Kenny started towards the door, then paused and turned back. “I’m not changing my answer, but could you really have made me mortal again?”

Henrietta’s purple-stained lips quirked up in a half smile. “Do you really want to know?”

He thought that over and sighed. “I guess not.”

“Good luck, Mysterion,” she called as he left the goth lair.

Meeting Satan didn’t go how Kenny expected. The large, red fallen angel was sitting at a desk and scrolling through his phone. His phone was in a clear plastic case adorned with a compartment of rose gold glitter, which floated in clear liquid as the phone moved. The desk was covered with papers and personal items, and surrounded by a moat of lava. Satan didn’t seem to notice his approach, so Kenny spoke up.

“Hey there.”

The ruler Hell looked up from his phone, then hastily put it down with an apologetic smile. “Kenneth McCormick! Of course! Take a seat.”

A bridge of bones instantaneously formed over the lava. Kenny walked across it and sat down on the other side of the desk from the devil. Now he could see the objects littering the desk’s surface. These included Hummel figurines, and there was a nativity scene with papier-mâché animals, starring a porcupine in the role of Mary. There was also a silver picture frame engraved with the words “Hell’s Sweetest Baby Boy.” This held a photo of a scowling black-haired boy with heavy brows.

Meanwhile, Satan rifled through some papers on his desk, finally picking up a notepad and scanning it. “Jesus and his friends told me all about you. Pretty crazy story—but that’s existence for you. Let’s see. Supervillain, a deadly game, alternate realities, yadda yadda yadda. The gist is, you want your friend Eric Theodore Cartman—the one from your world—back, correct?”

“Yes,” said Kenny.

Satan nodded. “Well, let me fill you in a little on what’s been happening down here. I understand that while in this game realm, Eric had a bit of a romance with a Princess Kenny? The one from Kupa Keep?”

Kenny sighed. “I don’t know if I’d call it a romance. They were flirting. It was gross. She’s not even that hot. I mean, her face is, because it’s mine, but the boobs are mediocre at best.”

“So, here’s the thing. Princess Kenny died just two weeks after Eric.”

“What?” Kenny asked, immediately feeling guilty for his boob comments.

“Big-time coup in her kingdom. She was part of a rebel group that overthrew that world’s Eric Cartman. She was supposed to become the new leader of Kupa Keep, but she died valiantly in battle. They installed a Paladin instead. By all accounts, she should have gone straight to Heaven, but what can I say? I’ve got a soft spot for rebels, so I gave her a choice. She chose to come here with Eric. Your world’s Eric, obviously. Not her world’s. He sucked. So,” said Satan, folding his hands on his desk, “that obviously complicates some things. You can try to take both of them out of here, but I get the feeling you’re not crazy about the relationship, so I’ll make you an offer. Agree to leave her behind, and I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on with your problem of not being able to stay dead, and what will happen with that in the future.”

Kenny’s heart pounded again. “The future?”

“I mean, I’ll give you the rough outline. That’s what you’ve been worried about, right? The not knowing. ‘Am I going to live for a millennium? Ten millennia? Is there a limit on the amount of times I can come back to life? Will my body continue to age indefinitely?’ All those questions you’ve been asking yourself.”

Kenny felt sick. Those were exactly all the questions he tortured himself with. He rubbed his face, then stood and paced behind his chair. He could finally know. Right now. He could get the answer. Then he’d know, and just have to live with it. He’d still be able to bring Cartman back. They just wouldn’t have Princess Kenny with them.

“What if Cartman doesn’t want to leave her?” he asked.

“Well, you could respect his decision and leave him here. But I’m perfectly fine being the bad guy. That’s kind of my thing. I can say it’s already been decided that he and only he is going. We don’t have to say you made the decision to not bring Princess Kenny.”

Kenny threw up the remnants of Tweek’s cinnamon roll into the lava, which sizzled and burned. He could know his future, he could really know. It wasn’t like Cartman’s track record with relationships was great anyway. He’d get over it. Eventually.

But he, Kenny, would always know. He would always know that Princess Kenny was left in Hell because of him.

“How bad is it here?” Kenny asked.

“Hm?” Satan asked.

“I mean, I know it’s Hell, but, like…how bad is it?”

Satan sighed. “Well, I’m no despot. There are different levels. People like Princess Kenny and Eric aren’t where President Garrison is headed, for example. Still…it’s Hell.” He gestured around at the lava and flames.

What an awful fate it would be for Princess Kenny. To give up Heaven for the man she loved, only to have him taken from her. Kenny flopped back down in the chair and ran his hand through his blond hair. “Give her the choice.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at Satan. “I’m not taking your offer, but let her decide what she wants to do. Maybe she wants to go back to Kupa Keep instead. Or Heaven. I mean, she’s been in Hell with Cartman for months. She might be over it.”

Satan smiled. “Out of all the Kennys, you’ve always been one of the best.” He snapped his fingers, and gestured to Kenny to look behind him.

Kenny turned, and there was Cartman. And Princess Kenny. Both were looking a bit singed, and startled, but more or less okay. Kenny leapt from his chair and ran back across the bone bridge.

“Cartman!” he cried, throwing himself at the lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in months.

“Kenny!” Cartman said, returning the hug and lifting him off the ground as if he were a cheap Ikea end table. “What the Hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you home.”

“Both of us?” Cartman asked, shifting Kenny to one arm while still holding him up and putting the other arm around Princess Kenny.

“Stop holding me like a toddler! Yes. I mean, you’re coming home, at the very least. If Princess Me wants, she can go back to Kupa Keep or on to Heaven.”

Cartman and Kenny both looked at the princess.

She shook her head. “Kupa Keep is in good hands now. I know the Paladin will be a just ruler. And there’s no family for me there. When we formed an alliance with the elves, I learned the truth: that my parents and siblings were killed when the Blood Elves invaded their small, impoverished kingdom.” She took Cartman’s hand and smiled. “But if I go to your world with Eric, we’ll all be family, right?” She looked at Kenny, her purple eyes filled with hope.

Kenny forced himself to smile back. “Of course. But again, you could also go to Heaven.”

She laughed. “Heaven can wait. How wonderful would Heaven be anyway, without my husband?”

Time froze. “Excuse me?” Kenny asked.

“Oh, yeah! We got married,” Cartman said, grinning. He set Kenny down and showed off his ring, which was plain gray metal. Kenny now noticed the princess had a matching one. “We made rings out of some of the links in a chain a demon tried to torture us with and used molten lava for the resizing. Cool, right? And there’s plenty of clergy down here, so it was even pretty official. We went with Pope Leo X.”

“Wow,” Kenny managed, knowing that if he had eaten more at breakfast, he definitely would have thrown it up. “Congrats.” He turned to Satan. “So…can I just take them up now?”

Satan waved at Cartman and Princess Kenny. “Hi, you two. I haven’t seen you since the reception. Yes, you three can continue on your way. But we warned that there are more trials ahead.”

“Don’t worry,” said Cartman. “I bet the three of us can handle anything!”


	20. Hell, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to walk out of Hell...

As they walked along the subterranean path, Kenny forced himself to compartmentalize. Yes, Cartman and Princess Kenny had just casually announced that they’d gotten married, but Kenny was not going to focus on how his childhood friend had wedded and probably had lots of sex with a female copy of him. Or how they were bringing that bride to their world. He was just going to focus on the fact that he almost had Cartman back, and that they had to finish their journey. _Does he call her Kenny in bed? No, don’t think about that!_

“So, how’s everything in the land of the living?” Cartman asked. “How’s my mom?”

Kenny’s heart broke at the mention of Liane. “She’s devastated, as you can imagine. As soon as we get back to HQ, you need to call her.”

“I can’t wait to meet my mother-in-law,” said Princess Kenny to her new husband.

 _I will not roll my eyes_ , Kenny thought. _Even though it’s stupid for Princess Me to call Liane her mother-in-law. There’s no way a marriage in Hell officiated by a dead pope is legal_.

Cartman put his arm around her. “She’ll be so upset she missed the wedding. We could have a second reception, though. At Casa Bonita! Oh my God! Yes! We have to have a Casa Bonita reception!”

Princess Kenny flashed a grin at her doppelganger. “He’s told me all about Casa Bonita. It sounds magical.”

_If they have biological kids, will they be genetically mine? Mine and Cartman’s? No, no, no. Don’t think about that._

“How about you guys?” Cartman asked. “Did Kyle throw a party when I died?”

Kenny stopped in his tracks, jarred out of involuntarily imagining kids with all of his and Cartman’s worst childhood qualities. “Did Kyle—? Fuck you!” he yelled, slapping Cartman’s upper arm. “It’s been fucking hell, you asshole! Don’t joke about that. Especially to Kyle. He’s been blaming himself, since he was one of the fighters who was forced to fire on you.”

Cartman snorted. “I’m pretty confident the Human Kite’s weak-ass laser eyes contributed very little to my death. That’s like saying an extra suitcase helped sink the Titanic.”

“I’m serious, Cartman. It’s not funny. Kyle’s been acting like he’s holding it together, but he’s not. And Stan and I haven’t been doing any better. We crashed at his parents’ place, stoned out of our minds and barely functional.”

“I mean, that’s what we did the last time the Broncos lost the Superbowl.”

“For a weekend! Not three months!”

“It’s been three months?” Cartman exclaimed. “Jesus, I’ve had no concept of time.”

“Yeah, well, we haven’t all been on our fucking honeymoon!”

“A honeymoon in literal Hell! It wasn’t a walk in the park,” Cartman argued. “Sure, our reception at the event space in Satan’s condo building was cool, but most of our time has been spent battling demons in a place with the climate of Arizona but none of the scenic vistas!” 

Kenny sighed, feeling guilty for his tirade. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. We just…it’s been really hard. We missed you.”

“Aww,” cooed Cartman, pushing aside the Mysterion hood to ruffle Kenny’s hair. “I missed you, too.”

“Asshole,” said Kenny affectionately, fixing his mask.

“And don’t worry, it wasn’t all bad,” said Cartman. “I always thought Hell would be full of needles, but it’s mostly just lava.”

“Eric was such a gentleman, always carrying me over the lava pools,” sighed Princess Kenny.

Cartman puffed his chest. “A little lava’s never bothered me. Some parts of Hell were even kind of fun. Before Kenny—Princess Kenny—showed up, I killed time doing fucked up shit to Hitler. I can’t wait to tell Kyle.”

Kenny winced at Cartman calling his wife “Kenny” without the title of Princess. _So he definitely calls her Kenny in bed. Great._ “You know, it might get confusing with both of us being named Kenny.”

“You’re right. When Kyle’s cousin Kyle comes to town, Sheila calls them Kyle 1 and Kyle 2,” Cartman said. He turned to his wife. “You can be Kenny 1, honey.”

“Hey!” Kenny 2 protested.

Princess Kenny laid a calming hand on her double’s arm. “When I learned about my family, I found out ‘Kenny’ is a nickname. My birthname was Kendra. Princess Kendra of Beyond-the-Tracks. You can call me Kendra, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Kenny said. “Mine is actually Kenneth.”

“Or we could call him Ken Doll,” Cartman suggested.

“Please don’t.”

“Kenny, or Kenneth,” said Kendra, “when we get to your world, can I meet Karen?”

Kenny looked at her, surprised. “Uh, sure.”

“I never got to know my family, including my siblings. Eric’s told me about the McCormicks. I understand there are difficulties with your parents and brother, but he said Karen’s nice.” There was an awkward pause, then she continued. “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s not my place.”

The princess’s violet eyes welled with tears, earning Kenny a glare from Cartman. He felt like an asshole.

“Of course you can meet her. She’d love to meet you! After all…” Kenny trailed off. Princess Kenny, or Kendra, was sort of like a sister, right? Maybe he had been looking at this all wrong. Instead of a weird clone of him with (small) boobs, maybe she was more like a long-lost twin sister. A pseudo sister. Whom his pseudo brother was fucking. _Ok, that just made it weird again_. He soldiered on, regardless. “Karen’s always wanted a sister.”

Princess Kenny squealed and threw her arms around him. “Oh, I’m so excited!”

A cross voice from up ahead interrupted the moment. “Don’t forget that in order to have this touching family reunion, you have to make it out of the Underworld first.”

Stepping out of the shadows was a woman Kenny instantly recognized as Red from back home. This Red, however, wore a black robe, a halo of thorns, and a pair of black wings. In her purple-gloved hand, she held a single rose.

“Oh, shit, you’re Angel Wendy’s ex-friend,” Cartman exclaimed.

“She really misses you,” Princess Kenny added.

Red rolled her eyes. “If Wendy wants to keeping hanging out with that wimp Jesus, that’s her problem. Light cannot pierce my darkness.”

“What do we have to do to continue?” Kenny asked.

“You have to defeat someone,” she said, “someone familiar to all of you.”

Red gestured with the rose while shouting “Hail Satan!” And in a flash, standing in front of them was someone who was, indeed, familiar. It was Cartman. Or a Cartman. This Cartman was dressed in a maroon robe and blue wizard’s hat. He carried a wooden staff, and his physique suggested magic was a more sedentary profession than superheroics.

“The Grand Wizard!” cried Princess Kenny.

The wizard’s face darkened when he saw her. “Traitor!” he roared. “You ungrateful wretch! I gave you shelter in my court for years and you betrayed me with that deceitful Paladin and those disgusting elves! Oh, that I could kill you again!”

“You can,” Red cut in. “She’s on her way to the land of the living, but defeat them, and she and this other Eric Cartman will be sent back to Hell.”

“Don’t you touch her!” Cartman warned the wizard, stepping in front of both Kennies.

The wizard regarded his lookalike skeptically. “Another version of me. I have heard of such things. But I doubt you have my skill in magic. You certainly don’t have my skill in fashion. What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“I’m obviously a raccoon, a very cool and cunning animal your lame-ass kingdom doesn’t have, and I don’t need magic to shred your flesh to ribbons, just these claws,” Cartman said, extending them.

The Grand Wizard snorted and twirled his staff. “Good luck. I am unstoppable. You will bow before me.”

Cartman charged the wizard, the Kennies behind him. The two Erics clashed, Cartman slashing furiously with his claws and shielding Kenneth and Kendra so the two could also get blows in. _Three against one. This almost seems unfair_ , Kenny thought.

Then the wizard king smirked. “This will be sweet,” he announced before slamming the point of his staff on the ground.

A force like no other Kenny had ever felt walloped him. It penetrated every atom of his being and tossed him and Princess Kenny far back. He tried to get up, but the dark Underworld cavern lurched around him, his ears ringing. From the corner of his eye he saw Kendra, who was in no better shape than he was. His main focus, though, was on the ongoing fight. Cartman was still standing; the blast had hardly moved him. He seemed dazed, though, and the wizard was landing blow after blow with his staff.

_No, no, no. After I’ve come all this way. I can’t lose him again. This can’t all be for nothing._

Kenny managed to get to his knees, and noticed something. The ringing in his ears was actually coming from…his waist? Kenny looked down, and saw Terrance and Phillip squeaking excitedly as they nosed their way out of their pouch on his utility belt. Free, the two hamsters leaped to the ground and scurried toward the fight.

“Ladies, no!” Kenny cried, trying to crawl after them. “Come back here, you dumb bitches!”

“I am unstoppable!” the wizard cackled, and once again slammed down his staff.

Far from the epicenter, Kenny was only nudged back a bit this time, so he didn’t lose sight of something extraordinary. The magical attack didn’t affect the tiny hamsters. At all. They kept charging right to the two fighting Erics, and launched themselves at the Grand Wizard, scratching and biting with their superpowered strength. The wizard squealed in surprise and pain.

Princess Kenny finally managed to get to her feet and Kenny followed, running to back up Cartman.

“This is for all the innocent citizens of Kupa Keep you terrorized,” Princess Kenny said, striking her former ruler with her scepter.

“You assholes!” their enemy yelled as he was swarmed by hamsters and Kennies, all while the Coon continued to land cuts and punches. “Fuck you!”

He tried to use his staff a final time, but it was too late.

“No, fuck you, Evil Me!” Cartman shouted, serving the fatal blow.

With an indignant whine, the tyrannical wizard fell to the ground and disappeared.

Cartman let out a sigh of relief and sank to the ground to catch his breath, embraced by his wife.

“Holy shit,” Cartman panted, picking up one of the hamsters. “What the fuck are these? They boosted me.”

“What do you mean ‘boosted you’?” Kenny asked.

Cartman’s face reddened slightly and he looked away. “I never told you this, but you guys—you and the other superheroes—boost my strength. Just by being near me. I’m stronger with you.”

“Huh,” Kenny said. “I guess what Kyle always says is true. We are all stronger together.”

“Do not tell him this. I’ll never hear the end of it,” Cartman begged.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, man. We all need each other. And it’s not like you’re weak on your own. There’s a reason why you’re the first person people in South Park call when they need furniture moved. Anyway, these two girls are Terrance and Phillip. We rescued them from Chaos’s lair. He gave them superpowers, somehow.”

“Aww, they’re adorable,” Princess Kenny said, petting them.

The hamsters chirped happily, then jumped onto her shoulders.

“Now you’re a proper Disney princess,” Kenny said.

“A what?” Kendra asked.

A slow clap prevented Cartman and Kenny from explaining the nostalgic joys and capitalist horrors of Disney. The group turned to see Red clapping drolly.

“Good job, guys. You defeated the Grand Wizard. Now you’re ready for the final and most difficult task.”

Kenny tensed. He had already faced heartrending decisions, and they had just battled a powerful foe. What could be next?

“Well? Lay it on us, Red,” Cartman said. “I gotta call my mom and the Casa Bonita events team.”

“This task will be solely for Mysterion,” Red said. “Mysterion, for the rest of the way, you have to walk ahead. The others will follow behind, but you won’t be able to hear them. If you look back to check that they’re still there before all of you exit the Underworld, then Princess Kenny and the Coon return to Hell.”

 _Wait a second_ , Kenny thought, _isn’t this_ —

Cartman was making the same connection. “You mean like—”

Kenny raised a hand to cut him off. “I don’t see how that’s a challenge, but I accept. Which way?”

Despite being very familiar with the task at hand due to the popularity of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, the struggle to not look back was harder than Kenny thought it would be. When walking along, supposedly with friends, and not hearing any footsteps, rustle of clothing, coughing, etc behind you, it was natural to turn to see. But he persevered, forcing himself to look only ahead of him. He walked the strange hills, valleys, and caverns of the Underworld. The journey was completely silent until he came across a group of woodland animals—a bear, a porcupine, and a bird—that he recognized from the Nativity scene on Satan’s desk.

“Howdy, fella,” the bear greeted. “Hail Satan!”

“Hail Satan!” the other two echoed.

“Gee, it sure is sad this fella is wandering all by his lonesome,” said the porcupine, who had a pentagram painted in blood on her belly.

The comment almost startled Kenny into looking behind him, but then he recognized the trick for what it was and growled in annoyance, refusing to acknowledge the critters.

“Yeah, poor little guy shouldn’t be walking all alone like that,” said the bird. “Who knows what could happen to him.”

“You should join us,” the bear offered. “We’re going to kill Jesus!”

“And then when he comes back, we’ll kill him again!” the porcupine added happily. “We will steal his power and breathe hellfire that will destroy all!”

“Yay!” the bird and bear cheered.

Kenny ignored them and kept walking.

Finally, he could see a light up ahead. As he got closer, he could see it was the entrance of the cave. His heart sped up. He was so close!

When he exited the cave, there were Hermes and Demon Craig waiting for him. He kept a lid on his excitement, though.

“Are you guys out yet?” he called without looking behind him.

There was no answer, so he walked a bit further.

“How about now?” he asked.

“We are, so please turn around. We’ve been staring at your ass for miles.”

Kenny grinned at Cartman’s voice, and finally turned around.

Cartman and Kendra were standing outside the cave. All traces of their time in Hell and battle with the wizard were gone: they were clean, healthy, and alive. Kenny let out and whoop and joined his friends in a group hug.

When they parted, they noticed the shocked expressions on Hermes’s and Craig’s faces.

“What is it?” Kenny asked them.

Hermes shook his head. “I just…I can’t believe you did it. That final test always trips everyone up.”

“Yeah,” Craig agreed. “We’re happy for you, or whatever, but to be honest, I was expecting you to fail.”

“People still fuck up the Orpheus and Eurydice thing?” Kenny asked.

The two supernatural beings looked startled.

“How do you know about that?” Hermes asked. “That happened eons ago.”

“Yeah, but it’s a famous myth,” Kenny said. “We all learn about it in school.”

“Really?” Craig asked, eyebrows arched.

“Seriously. There was a big ol’ Broadway musical about it recently. The guy who played you won a Tony,” Cartman said, pointing to Hermes.

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds cool,” Hermes said.

“Weird. It’s largely forgotten in our world. I only learned about when I started working with the Greco-Roman assholes,” Craig said. “Kind of anti-climatic that you already knew about it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not a story we’re familiar with in Kupa Keep,” Princess Kenny offered. “Our myths are mostly about how bad the elves are, and chickens.”

“Well, anyway, congratulations!” Hermes said, brightening up. “You did it! Eric Cartman and Kendra McCormick are alive again. You all ready to go home?”

Cartman put his arms around his wife and his best friend. “Are we ever.”

There was a flash of white light as Craig teleported them. In the few seconds of blinding whiteness, Kenny heard a familiar voice.

_I’m happy for you. And now that I’ve helped you regain your friend, I can move on. Have a good existence, Kenny. Goodbye for now._

It was the monk. But before Kenny could respond, the white light was gone, and he and the others were standing in the kitchen of Freedom Pals Headquarters, facing their overjoyed friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow. :) 
> 
> The Orpheus and Eurydice musical mentioned is Hadestown. It is fab, so check it out!


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's end with a wedding.

Ike screamed joyfully as his friend Sally chased him around the tables on the restaurant’s covered patio.

“Ike, be careful. I don’t want you falling down the stairs. And Sally, put down the damn scissors!”

The voice was Kyle’s, but with a slight western drawl to it. He wore a green cowboy hat and neckerchief over an orange button-up shirt. The kindergarteners ignored him, and Kyle turned to smirk at two of his tablemates. “The next round of beer is on me to thank you two for putting up with him—and not just putting up with him—but keeping him safe.”

“He’s darling,” Princess Kenny assured Ike’s brother.

“Yeah, he and Gizmo were pretty cool, for kids,” said the Coon.

“Enjoy it now. If he’s anything like my brother Ike, he’ll be a pretentious brat as a teenager,” said the Human Kite.

Mysterion snorted. “Like _you_ weren’t a pretentious brat as a teenager.”

The Coon, Princess Kenny, Human Kite, Mysterion, Toolshed, and the demon formerly known as Pastor Craig were sitting on the porch of a rustic restaurant, joined by the Gunslinger Kyle, Sheriff Cartman, Calamity Heidi, and Sharpshooter Shelly. It had been six months since the Mystical Team had first appeared in Freedom Pals’ Headquarters. After much exploration, they had finally found the Adventure world as well, and Craig had teleported the superheroes for a visit to the seaside desert town.

Randy walked over to their tables holding two pitchers of beer. He wore a surprisingly formal suit and his signature mustache was waxed into curls.

“Your bieres, monsieurs et mademoiselles,” he said in an atrocious French accent.

“Stop trying to speak French, Dad,” groaned Shelly.

“But mon fille, je suis French.”

Toolshed shot her a look of sympathy. He knew what being embarrassed by Randy Marsh was like.

“So…they’re all doing that?” he asked when Randy had left.

“Yep. They’re all pretending to be French now, no more fake Indians,” Sheriff Cartman affirmed, pouring himself and his wife a fresh glass. “The Incan put a stop to that.”

“The Incan?” Mysterion asked.

“A real one, from Peru. Looks just like this guy,” the sheriff said, gesturing at Demon Craig. “He damn near blew up half the prairie scaring off all the idiots. Even killed an innocent bystander.”

The cowboy Kyle rolled his eyes. “Well…”

“He killed Bradley,” the sheriff clarified. “So, not the biggest loss. Jesus, that varmint was annoying.”

“I couldn’t stand that snake oil salesman turd,” grumbled Shelly.

“Tell me about it,” said Demon Craig. “If I could destroy the Archangel Bradley, I’d be so happy. He’d annoy me even if I were still a priest.”

“Anyway, now they’re all playing French. Badly,” Sheriff Cartman concluded. “Look, there’s another one.”

The group turned to the western town’s main dirt road, where a Kenny dressed as a mime was pretending to be shot and killed.

“It seems silly, but it’s been good for the town. They’ve opened all these bistros, cafes, and creperies. We even get tourists now,” said Heidi.

“What about the pirates?” asked Human Kite.

“That’s the other thing,” said the sheriff. “Without the fake Indians backing them up, they lost interest in attacking us. Instead, they’re doing supply runs for the all the new businesses.”

“They’re even partnering with some of the ‘French’ for dinner cruises,” Heidi added. She smiled at the Coon and Princess Kenny. “Eric and I went on one for our anniversary. Chef Jimmy served us coq au vin, and Sommelier Token selected the wine. Deckhand Butters and Hookhand Clyde sang sea shanties for the entertainment. It was very romantic.”

“Speaking of romance, did Poseidon and Medusa ever get together?” asked the sheriff. “Sure seemed like it was heading that way.”

Kenny chuckled. “Not only are silver fox Poseidon and megababe Medusa an item,” he revealed, “but they have a menage-a-trois thing going on with Hermes, another version of me. Hermes Me gets around. I guess that’s understandable, with my face.”

“What about you, Craig?” asked Heidi. “I hear you’re seeing a Mormon?”

“Yes. Gary Harrison,” Craig confirmed neutrally. “It didn’t work out with the imp.”

Heidi smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think romance will work out between our Tweek and Craig either. Tweek is just so nervous, and the Incan literally shoots lasers from his eyes.”

“I still can’t believe we let Tweek carry the explosives,” said Shelly. “He shakes like a chihuahua.”

Gunslinger Kyle shrugged. “He hasn’t blown himself up yet.”

“I wonder how the other Tweek and Craig are doing,” said the Human Kite. “The ones from Cyber Ghetto. Maybe they got married.”

A contemplative hush fell over the group, and Stan took a long swig of beer.

“I bet they’re ok,” said Shelly. “Craig was tough.”

“And Robo Bebe and Program Stan were strong,” Human Kite added.

“No kidding. The bastard managed to kill me, after all,” said the Coon wryly, while his wife took his hand, frowning at the memory. “To be fair, I let him.”

Gunslinger Kyle gazed at Ike, who was climbing on the porch railing with Sally. “Ike still asks about Gizmo from time to time. A furry version of my brother sounds weird as hell, but I wish I could of met him. I hope that world’s Kyle is keeping him safe.”

Toolshed set down his emptied pint glass. “That Wendy was one of the strongest people I’ve met. If anyone could survive in that hellscape they called home, she could. I just wish I knew for sure.”

Princess Kenny sighed. “I worry about them too. And I wonder how everyone back in Kupa Keep is doing. I’m sure the Paladin is doing a fine job as ruler, but I hope peace with the elves has continued.”

Sheriff Cartman shot a grin at Gunslinger Kyle. “I wish you could see the hoity-toity elf version of yourself.”

The redhead scoffed. “Sounds like a wuss to me.”

“I miss Jimmy, the bard one,” said Shelly wistfully. “I still get some of those songs stuck in my head.”

“Hermes and I are working on finding those worlds,” Demon Craig promised. “Two down, two to go.”

“It was nice to see Ike doing so well,” said Princess Kenny when she, the Coon, Human Kite, Mysterion, and Toolshed were returned to Freedom Pals HQ.

Princess Kenny, or Kendra, had settled into her new world nicely. She had joined the team of superheroes, taking up the superhero name “The Princess.” She used her princess dress as her superhero outfit, but when out of costume, she was experimenting with the different clothing typical of her new home, trying out leggings, cold-shoulder tops, skinny jeans, t-shirts, and even a unicorn onesie. Her and Eric’s living quarters were a mix of lavender, pink, and gray, with his old toys like Clyde Frog and Polly Prissypants (which he’d kept hidden during his few previous relationships) on proud display, along with a stuffed animal chicken Cartman had gifted his bride to remind her of home. They had also adopted a white, one-eyed Persian cat named Duchess Kitty. To Kendra’s delight, she and Karen had become friends, and Liane and the other moms adored her.

“I’m glad Ike has a friend his age to play with, to burn off all that energy,” said Cartman. “Maybe we should have Sally be the flower girl so Ike won’t get bored at the wedding, especially if we haven’t found Gizmo by then.”

It turned out that a marriage in Hell was not legal in the eyes of the IRS, so Cartman and Kendra were planning a huge second wedding at Casa Bonita. It would involve cliff-diving vows, and guests would be invited from around the multiverse, including the former smuggler Ike as ringbearer and Angel Wendy as one of the bridesmaids. It was going to be spectacular, and Cartman liked to imagine Wonder Tweek and Super Craig were super-jealous his wedding was going to blow theirs out of the water (in reality, neither of them cared).

Stan ignored the wedding talk and headed to kitchen to get some coffee in an attempt at counter-act all the beer he’d had. He was glad, of course, that they had been able to confirm their cowboy acquaintances were alright. But when Demon Craig had appeared in their HQ again, his hope had been that he’d be taking them to Cyber Ghetto. Whenever he caught sight of the burn scar on his arm from the laser, he was reminded of two things: of Wendy the ice sniper gently but efficiently patching up the wound, and how she was back in a world where cyborgs with lasers were a constant threat. He thought of the harrowing stories about her world that she had relayed, so often in a matter-of-fact way. From the horrific fates that had befallen the Marsh and McCormick families there, to the doomed romance of Gregory and the Mole, tragedy was in abundance. Even small details, like the extensive repairs their bounty hunter ally had to frequently make on their protection robot, Awesom-O, highlighted how dangerous their world was. Every day he lived with the knowledge that somewhere out there was Wendy and her group of fellow nomads, struggling to survive.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that, and about their one night together in the castle. Their lovemaking had been full of passion, desperation, and delight. Part of him wished the two of them could have stayed in Destroyer Castle, cursed as it was. He hated to admit to himself how seeing Cartman and Kendra together filled him with jealousy. Cartman had been able to bring his multiverse dream girl home, so why not him?

Of course, he realized that Wendy would probably want to bring her entire group with her. She wasn’t one to leave her team behind, and that just made Stan respect her all the more. They could work it out, he told himself. After all, they had lots of space in Freedom Pals HQ. Maybe Mephesto and his PhD-candidate nephew would be able to help the cyborgs with their programming. Maybe they could get the alternate version of Randy Marsh some trauma counseling. Maybe the aliens Wendy had mentioned would be able to tell their superhero group more about how they had gotten their powers. Tweek the War Boy and Craig the Space Marine could get properly married and have a relaxing honeymoon. Gizmo could visit his friend Ike in the Adventure world, or maybe he and the bounty hunter would just move there. From how Wendy had described that Kyle, it sounded like he would fit in well in a wild west town. Stan had it all figured out. All they needed was a way to reach that world.

“Hey, man. You okay?”

Kyle had come up behind him in the kitchen.

Stan shrugged and sipped his coffee. “I’m fine. Just tired of hearing about the stupid wedding.”

“Well, we’ve got many months more to go. I guess we always knew Cartman would be a groomzilla. The tuxes he’s picked for us aren’t as bad as they could have been, at least. Thank God Kenny talked him out of velvet.”

Stan grimaced.

“Sorry,” Kyle said. “You don’t want to hear wedding talk.”

“It’s just hard to think about some big celebration when…you know.”

“I know. And I’m sure the Mystical Team will find them at some point. But, Stan,” Kyle said, looking hesitant, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. From what you said, it sounded like she wasn’t interested in relationships.”

Kyle had broached this before, and it hadn’t gone over well then, either. Stan glared.

“A lot has happened since then,” he argued. “And that was in their world. She felt it was too dangerous and chaotic a place to have a relationship. If she came to Colorado, obviously things would be different. Besides, even if doesn’t want me, I want to know she’s okay.”

“I get it, man,” Kyle said, putting a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “I hope we have good news soon.”

Casa Bonita somehow looked even more magical than ever. Not only were there the usual paper lanterns, fake foliage, shimmering waterfalls, and glowing pools, but there was Cartman and Princess Kenny’s wedding present from Kupa Keep: two dozen chickens, decorated in pastel colors and magical glitter by that world’s Nichole, a nymph.

The ceremony would be starting soon, and as expected with weddings, it was tense chaos in the final moments. Despite having been fine in rehearsals, Sally and Ike had a last-minute meltdown about their assigned roles. Angel Wendy skillfully handled it by suggesting that they switch. Now Sally was the ringbearer and tiny former-pirate Ike (whom Sheila couldn’t stop cooing over when they met) was the flower boy. Or flower cowboy, as he claimed. Cartman was having a groomzilla fit about the lighting not being flattering. Demon Craig was cranky about having to teleport so many people (plus twenty-four unexpected chickens) to the Denver restaurant, but was calmed by his plus-one and fiancé, Gary Harrison. The chickens were beautiful, but pooped everywhere as they wandered around the restaurant, so Kyle Schwartz and Scott Malkinson had been assigned the job of cleaning up after them.

Stan peeked out from the room where the wedding party were waiting. Le Bard Jimmy was playing traditional Kupa Keep wedding songs (“Drow Elf Courtship Dance,” “The Lusty and Ribald Wedding Night of the Dwarves,” “The Sad Tale of the Hero’s Wedding Stopped by the Executioner and the Witch,” etc.) as the guests took their seats.

Stan was happy for Kendra that Hermes and Craig had found Kupa Keep in time for the wedding. Her friends could attend, and the now-King Butters would be walking her down the aisle. But Cyber Ghetto had still not been found, and his heart ached. He could see that along with Calamity Heidi, Sheriff Cartman, Drow Elf Kyle, Medusa, and Poseidon were all sitting together. The far-off Wendy was the only one missing from their team. His parents were sitting in the row in front of them, and Randy was turned around in his seat, animatedly asking questions of the silver-haired, bearded, god version of his son. Stan internally winced in embarrassment. No doubt that once the ceremony was over, his dad would ask him why _he_ wasn’t a playboy god of the sea. His sister and Sharpshooter Shelly were talking together, probably commiserating about being Randy Marsh’s daughter. 

“I’m sorry she’s not here.”

Stan turned to see Wendy—a.k.a. Call Girl. Things had gotten more normal between them, and they would be walking down the aisle together as groomsman and bridesmaid. First would be the best man and maid of honor, Kenny and Karen, then Kyle and Nichole, then them, then Clyde and Nymph Nichole, and finally Cartman’s cousin Elvin and Angel Wendy.

Stan forced himself to give his world’s Wendy a smile. “Thanks. I just hope they’re ok.”

“You’re not the only one pining today,” she said, nodding toward King Butters.

The former paladin was standing in the back with Princess Kenny.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s clear he was hoping Kendra would be his queen.”

Once she said it, Stan noted how Butters’ eyes were misty, how despite his fond smile, he seemed to struggle to maintain his composure. He felt a pang of sympathy.

“Alright, everyone, places,” announced the put-upon Casa Bonita wedding director.

Jimmy switched to strumming “March of the Cocks,” and the wedding party quickly got in order for the processional. Cartman, escorted by an already teary-eyed Liane, would go first. But just as the groom and his mother took their first step, someone called out, “Wait!”

Stan knew from the voice it was a Craig, but wasn’t sure which until he looked. There was the horned, winged Craig, standing and looking at his phone.

“Craig, the fuck?” Cartman asked, irate.

“Everybody, just wait a few minutes,” Craig said, and then teleported away.

The guests murmured in confusion, the groomsmen tried to calm Cartman, and Jimmy, a truly expert bard, switched to playing the jaunty tune about Dragon Slayer Red’s exploits.

Fifteen minutes later, Demon Craig reappeared, but he wasn’t alone. With him was Hermes, but also a Tweek, a Craig, a Bebe, an Ike, and a Wendy. Specifically, the Tweek, Craig, Bebe, Ike, and Wendy from Cyber Ghetto.

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then flower cowboy Ike cried out in joy and ran from the ready room to Gizmo, who was also shrieking with excitement. Next, Princess Kenny completely ruined the surprise reveal of her fluffy, sparkly wedding dress by dashing out with Angel Wendy to embrace Robo Bebe. Even Cartman forgot his annoyance over the unexpected delay and lifted Gizmo in his arms, getting fur on his tux.

Meanwhile, Stan stood in shock for several moments. There was Wendy. His Wendy. She was wearing her battered purple jacket, and her eyes were lined with the years of stress and hard living. She looked stunned, but alive and happy. Their eyes met, and his heart pounded. He ran for the nearest trashcan, vomited, and then sprinted to her side and threw his arms around her.

“Wendy! You’re alive!”

“Stan! Human Stan!” she cried, laughing in disbelief. “I never thought I’d see you again!”

Medusa and Poseidon hurried over to greet their one-time teammate.

“I found the metaphysical path to their world just minutes ago,” their boyfriend Hermes boasted. “I knew the wedding was going on, but I also knew this was important, so I texted Craig.”

After rushed greetings, where the newcomers shared the welcome news that their friends back home were all well, Princess Kenny used her powers to give the most recent guests a costume-change into formal clothes, and the Casa Bonita staff grabbed extra chairs. Gizmo, of course, had to be added as a flower boy, and then the wedding could finally proceed.

Stan was in a daze. He walked down the aisle with his world’s Wendy, and then took his place in the line of groomsmen. Even as Sally, Ike, and Gizmo walked down the aisle, the two Ikes tossing flowers haphazardly (and Gizmo eating a few), he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the ice sniper. She looked beautiful in the purple gown Kendra had conjured for her.

Timmy was officiating telepathically, his words beamed into the minds of all attendees. Near the conclusion of the ceremony there was a pause, and Cartman and Kendra went offstage, then reappeared in “wedding” bathing suits at the top of the giant fake cliff. Jimmy (Fastpass, not the bard or friar) played a drum to build tension, and then the newlyweds kissed and dove into the bright blue pool below, causing at least one Tweek to scream. The two resurfaced to their friends’ and family’s cheers while a mariachi band burst into song. It was pretty much the wedding Stan would have always expected Cartman to have, had he bothered to imagine Cartman’s future wedding.

While the bride and groom got changed into new attire, the reception officially began. Stan ditched the other groomsmen and made a beeline for the non-angel, non-superhero Wendy.

Her face was full of wonder and confusion. “Are all weddings here like this? Our Tweek and Craig just filled out some digital forms and then Awesom-O sprayed chrome paint in the air.”

Stan shook his head. “No, this is just Cartman.”

Wendy looked around the area, taking in the lights, fake plants, and cheesy facades. “Your world is…stunning. But there’s no sky.”

“This is just Casa Bonita. It’s fake. We’re in a restaurant in the Denver suburbs.”

“Oh,” said Wendy. “It reminds me of Prince Gregory’s palace.”

Stan felt mildly threatened until he remembered Gregory was dead in her world.

“But how are you?” he asked, anxiously. “What’s happening in Cyber Ghetto?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but a deafening cheer arose as Cartman and Kendra reappeared in a matching pink tuxedo and ballgown.

“Hey there, little lady!” boomed another Cartman voice.

Stan and Wendy turned to see the rest of their former team: Sheriff Cartman, Drow Elf Kyle, Poseidon, and Medusa, along with the significant others, Calamity Heidi and Hermes.

“I’m so glad you’re alive again!” cried Wendy, embracing Medusa, whose snakes wore miniature bowties for the occasion.

“And I’m glad you’re still alive,” she replied. “The rest of your group is really ok?”

The team huddled closer, anxious for the update.

Wendy nodded, smiling. “We’re doing great, actually. We aren’t in Cyber Ghetto anymore. Kenny-tron found an old alien junkyard, and we’ve built a home there. There’s still a lot of hard work, but it’s the easiest living we’re had in years. Red is even going to have eggs hatching soon, so Gizmo will have playmates!”

“What about the cyborg version of us?” Poseidon asked, gesturing at himself and Stan.

“Weddings aren’t really Program Stan’s thing,” Wendy explained. “Plus…he did kill the groom, so he’s back home with his dad.”

“Cartman wouldn’t have minded,” Stan assured her, even though he was glad the cyborg wasn’t present.

“Speak of the devil,” said the sheriff jovially, as the bridal couple approached. He and his copy shook hands. “Look at us, two handsome married men with our gorgeous wives.”

“Wendy, how are you?” Kendra asked, clasping the woman’s hands in her own. “Bebe said things are ‘satisfactory’?”

“I was just telling everyone how good we have it now,” Wendy said. “We have a wonderful home. Food is sometimes hard to come by, but we’re making do.”

“Hey, if you want any chickens, we now have…quite a few,” Cartman said, gesturing at their Kupa Keep wedding present, who were congregating around Friar Jimmy. “You can eat them, and they lay eggs you can also eat. The perfect animal, really.”

“And there are more where those came from,” added Drow Elf Kyle. “Many more. Now that Hermes and Demon Craig know how to travel around our worlds, we could send you coop-fulls.”

“Wow! Thank you,” Wendy said, her face beaming.

Although Stan knew it was wonderful—amazing, miraculous, even—that Wendy’s group was doing so well, the news struck him with a bit of unease. If everything was so great back home, it seemed unlikely that she would want to move to his world. _No, that’s silly,_ he thought. _She’s living in a literal alien junkyard. Once she sees where they could be living, she’ll want to stay here. I’ll talk to her about it later tonight._

The wedding festivities continued. Cartman and Kendra had their “first dance,” followed by Cartman dancing with his mom while Kendra danced with King Butters, who looked like he wanted to die. After that, the dance floor was open to all. Stan groaned as he saw his father enthusiastically leading his mother to the floor, pumping his arm in rhythm to the DJ’s current song. Beside him, Wendy chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “When it comes to Randy Marsh, I’ve seen it all. Honestly, it’s nice to see him so happy with your mother. I never knew what Sharon looked like. She’s beautiful. And seeing Karen McCormick—wow. I almost want a photo of her to show Kenny-tron and Stuart, but maybe it would just make them sad, seeing what she would have looked like grown up.”

Karen, Kenny, Kendra, and Cartman were dancing in a foursome, Kendra the most graceful among them. Stan glanced at Wendy, and saw that her eyes were misty. It must be jarring, he realized, to suddenly see people long dead in her world alive and well. He was about to bring up the possibility of her and her group staying in Colorado when she abruptly wiped her eyes and smiled.

“Want to dance?” she asked.

They danced until a dinner of Casa Bonita’s infamously lackluster Mexican food was served, which Stan assured Wendy was not representative of all of Earth. There were endless toasts, including an unsolicited one by Randy, who to be fair, was supplying the party favors (customized packets of Tegridy gummi-bears, to Angel Wendy’s delight). Instead of a wedding cake for dessert, there was a tiered presentation of sopapillas.

“This is amazing,” said Wendy, digging into the fried dough.

“No sopapillas in space, huh?” asked Stan.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, licking honey off her finger. Then her face turned serious. “Stan, over the past year, so much has changed for me. I thought a lot about what we talked about that one day, about how I was avoiding romance.”

Stan’s heart pounded and his stomach lurched. “Yeah?”

“All right, everyone, it’s time for the bouquet toss!” announced a Casa Bonita employee over a megaphone.

Wendy looked confused. “The what?”

Stan desperately wanted to hear the conclusion to what she had been saying, but explained. “The bouquet toss. It’s a tradition here at weddings. The bride throws the bouquet, and whoever catches it is supposed to be the next to get married.”

“You _have_ to get married if you catch the bouquet?” asked Wendy, alarmed.

“No, no. It’s just like…superstition. For fun,” Stan said.

He and Wendy joined Friar Jimmy, Angel Wendy, and the Witch Doctor Token to watch the event. Gary Harrison caught the bouquet, and promptly gave Demon Craig a kiss on the cheek while everyone, including the two sets of Tweeks and Craigs, clapped.

“It’s a good thing the imp isn’t here,” said Token.

“Poor guy,” lamented Angel Wendy.

“He should get his own hot M-m-mormon,” suggested the friar. “What about that Elder Price we met recently?”

The night was wrapping up. Ike, Sally, and Gizmo, exhausted from running like maniacs through the “gold mine,” were fast asleep in a corner booth, watched over by Gunslinger Kyle and Sheila Broflovski, who were deep in conversation. Sheriff Cartman, Calamity Heidi, and Sharpshooter Shelly were nursing night caps with Drow Elf Kyle, Bard Jimmy, and King Butters. Robo Bebe and Timmy were discussing something—probably engineering. Only Randy and Gerald were still going on the dance floor. Demon Craig was starting to teleport tired wedding guests back to their own worlds.

Stan and Ice Sniper Wendy were in a group that had formed around the bride and groom in a nook near the waterfall. Kendra, although exhausted from the long day, still looked radiant: she wore her husband’s pink tuxedo jacket over her shoulders, and Nymph Nichole had woven flowers into her hair. Currently, the group was listening to her and Cartman talk about their honeymoon in Hawaii, which they were leaving for the next day.

“I can’t wait to see all the beautiful fish and birds,” said Kendra. “I’ve seen pictures, and they’re so colorful.”

“You should take a helicopter tour of the volcanoes,” said Token. “My family can lend you ours.”

Cartman grimaced. “I think we saw enough lava in Hell, thanks.”

“Hey, Wends,” said a flat voice from behind Wendy and Stan.

They turned to see Tweek and Craig—War Boy Tweek and Space Marine Craig—standing behind them.

“Tweek’s pretty tired, so we’re going to grab Gizmo and catch a ride home with Other Me. You coming?”

Wendy looked caught off-guard. “Oh.” She looked at Stan. “I suppose I should be going soon.”

Stan panicked. She couldn’t leave now. Not yet.

He was saved by Cartman, who had overheard. “Don’t leave without your chickens! Take as many as you want. Please!”

Wendy turned back to Tweek and Craig. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll round up our chickens.”

“I’ll help!” Stan said, jumping to his feet and offering Wendy his hand.

The Casa Bonita staff gave them two large cardboard boxes, and they started rounding up chickens. Unfortunately, Friar Jimmy had left for the evening, which made the task more difficult. Fortunately, that gave Stan more time to talk to Wendy.

“Wendy,” he said, as they followed a small cluster of hens past the sopapilla stand, “I’ve been thinking…I know your current living situation is improved and all, but…but if you wanted to, you know you’re more than welcome here. I mean, not here in Casa Bonita, but here in this world. In Colorado. In Freedom Pals Headquarters.”

Wendy gave him a sad smile. “Thank you, Stan. Your world is…interesting. But it isn’t mine.”

“But it could be,” Stan interjected. “Kendra’s from a different world, and she’s fitting in just fine.”

“Stan, I need to tell you something,” Wendy said abruptly. “I tried to tell you earlier tonight. About how I’d been thinking a lot about how I’d been avoiding love?”

Stan nodded, his heart in his throat.

“Well, the truth is…I met someone. Someone special. And for the first time in a long time, I realized I can love again.”

Stan’s heart sunk all the way down to his feet. “Oh.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. But I wanted to thank you. Without you and what we had together, just briefly, at Destroyer Castle, I don’t know if I would have gotten there.”

Stan swallowed, pulled himself together, and gave her hand a squeeze back. “I hope he treats you well.”

“He does. He’s wonderful.”

“What is he?” asked Stan, trying to smirk. “Please don’t tell me he’s a robot version of Kyle’s dad.”

Wendy laughed. “No, he’s an alien warrior…named Token.”

“Ah,” said Stan. “Figures.”

Together, they rounded up half of the chickens, who clucked in their boxes. Then they joined Bebe, who was also ready to go. Princess Kenny had returned their clothes to normal, so Wendy was back in her battered purple jacket. She and Stan shared a final embrace.

“Good luck with your space chicken farm,” he said. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” she told him. “And I know the right person is out there for you.”

Then Demon Craig teleported her, Bebe, and the chickens away.

Stan sighed.

“You ok?”

He turned to look at Kyle, who looked tired and disheveled in his groomsman suit, his curly red hair a mess. 

“Not really,” Stan admitted. “But at least she’s happy.”

“Hey, losers! You getting in the limo or what?” Cartman yelled from across the near-empty restaurant.

“We’re coming,” Kyle shouted back.

He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders, and they headed to out of the dreamworld that was Casa Bonita to the pink stretch limo that would take them home to South Park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this fic! Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone who read my escapism during this crazy time. I hope you enjoyed the ending.


End file.
